The Musa Wars
by Aelfstangard
Summary: Riven is forced by his father to take to him a wife by year's end or lose his right to the throne. This sparks a three-way battle among those who want to become his queen. Who lives? Who dies? Whom does Riven finally marry?
1. Riven's Dilemma

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**Notice: **I do not own _the Winx Club _upon which my fan fiction is based. This is the property of Iginio Straffi to whom I give full acknowledgment. My only goal has been to produce a high quality fan fiction that further explores the wonderful world of Witches and Faeries that he has created for us and that will be entertaining for those who love the_ Winx Club _as much as I do and that Sr. Straffi himself would be proud to read.

Because my stories based on the Winx Club come from the Witches' camp, which has been barely developed in the animated series, I have had to, perforce, to fill in from my own imagination many blanks concerning the Witches' life-styles and culture and also create a host of original characters to give my stories substance. As a result, my stories take place in an alternate version of the Winx Club universe, so, you must expect to fine deviations from what most of you may have come to expect. I am hoping, though, that you, my good readers, will find that this enriches the Winx Club universe and that you will read and enjoy my stories as much as I enjoy penning them for you.

If you are new to my stories, I suggest that you read them in the order_: Ishandra : Icy's Tale, The Musa Wars_ and then the rest. _Shego And The Trix_ is a cross-over story that takes place in both my alternate Winx Club universe and the Kim Possible universe but builds to a degree upon the first two stories.

Ælfstangard

}

**The Musa Wars**

**A Winx Club Tale**

**By Ælfstangard**

**Chapter 1 : Riven's Dilemma**

Riven has always had the intention of marrying one fine day but he wants it in his own time and on his own terms. But here is the decree direct from his father, the King of Planet Daingneach written in his father's own hand and sealed not only with the Great Planetary Seal but also with his father's personal cachet. In the terse expression of his home world it states: "Find yourself married to a woman who can give you an heir within the year or you shall forfeit your right to ascend to the throne of Daingneach to your brother Aldo." Now, Riven does not begrudge his brother Aldo's right to inherit and govern his fare share of the planet but there is no way that his brother is going to take from him his right to be the next King of Daingneach simply because his fat wife has produced six offspring for him in as many years of marriage.

Riven places the decree in front of him on his writing desk and, after fetching some calming tea, sits to contemplate the choices open to him.

First, there is Musa whom he knows loves him with all her hearts. She is a bright and intelligent Faerie from the Harmonic Nebula with a quick wit and a way with music that always calms the savage beast within him. He has only to ask and he knows that she would marry him and produce for him an heir in short time. But Musa's bubbly-bouncy personality? No, that stands against her. Not only would it meet with his dour and hoary-headed father's disapproval but also that of the whole Court of Daingneach. They, he knows, would try to suppress her in a manner that would be like depriving a flower of sunlight. She would never survive there and he could not bare the thought of watching her spirit, fade, wither and die under the depression of Daingneach. Although marrying Musa would be his easy way out, he could not find it within his hearts to do that to her.

There is Darcy, a Witch and a member of the Trix of Cloud Tower, who professes to love him with all her heart and who appeals to his darker nature. She could survive and most likely thrive in the gloomy atmosphere that prevails at the Court of Daingneach. But could she produce for him an heir? Doubtful. There is also the problem of her two sisters who are the other elements of the notorious Trix. Stormy, whom he secretly thinks of as cute, is nonetheless a tempestuous child in a woman's body. Her powers are that of wind, lightning and storm that are attached to the short fuse of her temper and kept in check only through the iron will of her sister Icy. Icy, the heartbreakingly beautiful mistress of ice and snow whose heart is as cold, callous and cruel as her name, he fears to the very depths of his soul. If he marries Darcy, Icy would use her position of sister to the Queen of Daingneach to grab still more power and even to seize the Throne of Daingneach for herself.

There is a third woman who calls herself Alessandra and who recently achieved her Enchantix status. She is tall and slender but not overly so with raven hair and large butterfly type wings the blue-black colour of the midnight skies with silver scrolling. But everything about her is a series of contradictions. She has the face of a Witch but yet it is refined with the comeliness of a Faerie. Some say she used to be ugly but Bloom used her power of the Dragon Fire and her new training as a healer to remodel her face to the image of beauty it is today. Her Charmix is also a bazaar mixture of a Witch's silver, spiked mace but encrusted with brilliant Faerie jewels. Overall, she still looked like a Faerie but her mind has the dark sombreness of a Witch but she is intelligent and straight forward in a way that Riven finds appealing and refreshing. He had met Alessandra during an Alfea Faeries' mixer with the Heroes of Red Fountain. She was standing alone in the half light of the room like a wallflower. He went up to her and offered to dance the next dance with her. It took some persistence but finally she accepted and once on the dance floor she became like a graceful black swan who finds herself in her element. She looks up at Riven while dancing with a shy, half smile on her lips and he feels a tugging on his hearts. Alessandra, he knows, would also agree to marry him. If not for love then because of her desire and need to belong, to feel protected and to feel wanted. Could she produce for him an heir? Again, that is doubtful. And if he married her, there would be constant trouble from the other women in his life. Musa would go out of her way to make life miserable for the both of them and Darcy… Darcy, if she knew who Alessandra once was and from whence she came, would kill her outright without hesitation and then she would kill him just for spite.


	2. The Women

The Musa Wars

Chapter 2 : The Women

Standing a the edge of her balcony banging an angry three-beat rhythm with her fist upon the railing, Musa watches as Riven mounts his lava bike and speeds off towards Red Fountain. Her evening with him, in her opinion, was a monumental disaster. The meal she had so lovingly prepared for him was eaten without comment or compliment. The conversation amounted to a series of non-committal grunts. As for their lovemaking that evening… "It didn't even rate as a passionate grope in the dark," thinks Musa bitterly. Something had his mind distracted.

"Darcy!" spits Musa angrily to herself. "That witch has her claws into him again! Most likely he was not even aware of with whom he had spent the evening. Well, this time I'm not occupied devoting my time to Bloom and the protection of her Dragon Fire so this tug-of-war for Riven is going to end here and now. If she wants Riven, then she'll have to fight me for him!"

Meanwhile, a raging thunderstorm is brewing over Cloud Tower – which is normal and to be expected. It is the storm on the inside of Cloud Tower that is unusual as two Witches square off with each other like angry cats hissing, yowling, and spitting into each other's face.

"Darcy, let him go!" shouts Ishandra, who was once known as Icy, to her brunette sister. "It will never work out between you. Riven belongs with Musa – not with you."

"Riven and I do belong together, Icy!" shouts Darcy in return. "We have opened our hearts to each other and we are in love – the two of us – with each other. I will marry him, keep his house for him, be is good little Witch wife, and bear his children."

"That's just it," says Ishandra exasperated. "If you are hoping for children, it won't be with Riven. By the Goddess, Darcy, Riven's not even human!"

"What would you know about that, Icy?" yells Darcy. "You are not only the Mistress of Ice and Snow but also the Queen of Frigid. You wouldn't know where to find the best part of a man unless someone drew you a diagram with a big red arrow pointing right at it!"

"That's a cheap shot, Darcy," snarls Ishandra. "I am only trying to spare you and, yes, him a life of misery."

Ishandra takes a deep breath and once more tries to reason with Darcy. "Look, Darcy, we know that the Faeries are all female because we have been up close and personal fighting with them all these years. And every spring in Magix we see hundreds of Faeries who are about to become mothers. Well, how do you think they get that way? It's not done with magic nor with something they find in a cabbage patch. Yes, Darcy, there is a male counterpart to a Faerie called a Faë or a Hero as they like to call them here on Alfea. Riven is a Faë – not a human like you or I – and Faën are a different class of creatures unto themselves."

Darcy looks sullenly on with her arms crossed defensively as Ishandra continues. "You will never have children with Riven," says Ishandra. Faën and Witches cannot interbreed. Most attempts abort within the first month and any offspring that do make it into the world are wretched, deformed monstrosities who live out a short life of pain and agony. Do you really want to risk bringing such a creature into the world simply to have Riven quench the fire burning within your loins? Darcy? Darcy, look at me and give me your answer."

"No," drawls Darcy slowly and sadly with tears in her eyes. "But how can you be so sure that Riven is one of these Faën as you call them?"

"Ask him yourself," replies Ishandra. "Yes, I know that on the outside he looks as human as you and I but on the inside he is completely different. Ask him how many hearts he has and where they are, or stomachs or sets of teeth. If he tells you more than one of each, then he is a Faë. And if that does not convince you, then ask him to let you have a good look into his mouth and if you see more than one ridge of teeth on the top and bottom, then he is a Faë. And once that you know that he is, then for both your sakes, release him and let him go back to Musa who loves him and can offer him a happy life together."

Darcy looks as if she is about to concede defeat but then rebellion boils up in her again. "Lies!" she screams. "You're just like M'Trika and Musa and all the others. You can't bear the thought that I have found happiness with Riven so you want to take him away from me. It's not going to happen, Icy. Never!" and then she raises her hands.

Ishandra, seeing Darcy raise her hands and knowing what is about to happen, yells, "Darcy! Darcy, don't you dare vanish on me!" but she does leaving Ishandra blinking at the vacant space where Darcy was standing.

Ishandra sighs and then turns towards a couch whereupon sits her youngest sister, a Storm-Witch named Leffi, but who at one time in her life called herself Stormy. The pretty, young woman is holding her knees up to her chest and is scrunched up into a corner hiding her face in fear. "It's okay, my precious Little One," says Ishandra soothingly to the woman-child as she takes a spot on the couch beside her. "I'm sorry you had to be here to see this."

"Did I do something wrong? Is Darcy mad at me?" asks Leffi.

"No, Little One, you have done nothing wrong and Darcy is not upset with you," replies Ishandra gently, "but Darcy is not herself these days."

"Why?" ask Leffi, looking up at Ishandra with innocent, blue eyes.

"Darcy has contracted a disease called love," explains Ishandra to her little sister, "and I hope, for your sake, you never catch it for it rips away all your powers of reasoning and makes you go crazy in the head," and circles her temple with her index finger.

"Will she get better?" asks Leffi.

"I hope so, Leffi. I hope so," replies Ishandra with a sigh.

"But I need to leave here," thinks Ishandra, "for, as the Werecat has warned me, Darcy will drag me down to a state that is worse than where I was when I was once Icy the Leader of the Trix. I am going ahead with my plans to build my ice palace between Cloud Tower and Alfea College. But I need to find a safe place for Leffi where she will not fall victim to Darcy's rage and abuse when she discovers that I have left her."

"I have a surprise in store for you," says Ishandra to the woman-child. "How would you like to visit a world where there are only Faeries and live there for a time?"

"I would love it!" squeals Leffi in delight.

"I will arrange for Mistress Tecna to take you to Binos which is her home world," says Ishandra, "and there she will teach you how to use your new cybernetic powers that our friend the Werecat gave you and you will get to meet all kinds of new Faeries like Mistress Bloom, Mistress Stella, Mistress Flora, Mistress Layla and even Mistress Musa. And I'll come see you there sometimes too. Won't that be fun?"

"Yes!" replies Leffi joyfully. "This is going to be so much fun!"

In a park just outside of Alfea College sits a woman under a tree with her legs drawn up and her head resting on her knees. But it is not in fear. No, Alessandra is dreaming: dreaming of love and the happiness she has found with a young man with purple hair shaped like a flame named Riven.

Her life has vastly improved since she left Cloud Tower and taken up residence at Alfea College, she reflects. The Faeries have been extremely kind to her and a few changed her life radically with their gifts. There is Flora, who specializes in botanical medicine, who diagnosed Alessandra's eating disorder and then used her botanical skills and magic to cure it. Thanks to Flora, she now has some decent meat on her bones, her face has lost most of its hollowness and boney angularity, a new, healthy light glows in her eyes, and she feels stronger and better than ever before. With the weight gain, her passé and Witch style clothing no longer fit her. A Faerie named Stella helped her to abandon them and advised on how to dress in a manner that flattered her new body. But it is to Bloom, Alessandra feels she owes a special debt of gratitude. Bloom had used her new skills as a healer and the fine point of the Dragon Fire to reshape her face into the image of lasting beauty it is today. Her new looks are neither Witch nor Faerie in Alessandra's opinion but a blend of the best of both.

Yet, despite these changes, her mind-set is still that of a Witch. No, she is not evil or wicked but the differences in opinion and viewpoint are, nonetheless, the cause of many long and loud disputes among her and the Faeries. Even her best and lifelong friend, Mirta, tends to side more and more with the Faeries in any given argument. But what irked and surprised the Faeries – and to some degree Mirta – the most about her is when she suddenly receives her Charmix and in short order her Enchantix after the daring rescue of Flora when a dragon she was treating broke the tethers restraining it and came after her with its maw wide open and breathing fire. Flora had folded her wings to work on the dragon without them obstructing her movements but when the attack came, there was no way she could unfurl them in time to lift off and to get away. Witches, however, use levitation not wing power to fly and that was the crucial, lifesaving difference. Alessandra, who was there and saw Flora in danger, swept in, and levitated with Flora a split second before the dragon's fire hit and its huge maw snapped shut. When they land, there is a glow about Alessandra, and when it lifts, she is dressed in a formfitting and somewhat pixyish black dress and from her back has sprouted a pair of blue-black butterfly style wings with silver, witchy-looking scrolling.

Alessandra had hoped that obtaining her Charmix and Enchantix status would bring the Faeries and her closer together but instead it seemed to drive a wedge between them. Yes, Flora and the Winx Club Faeries accepted her and her new status but among the others – and especially the younger Faeries – it sparked a furor of outrage and perhaps also jealousy. Many state that Charmix and Enchantix powers are for Faeries only and that a witch with either is an abomination while calling her a counterfeit Faerie. Finally, Miss Faragonda assembles all within the courtyard of Alfea College and tells them, while Alessandra is standing by her side, that the bestowing of Charmix and Enchantix powers is not determined by Faerie opinions and wishes but by the Goddess Herself and if She decides to bestow these powers upon a Witch then that is Her indisputable prerogative. Then she further astounds the assembly already stunned into silence by having Alessandra kneel before her to receive the Sisterly Kiss of Acceptance upon her temple which Alessandra returns upon hers. "Arise, My Sister!" exclaims Miss Faragonda in a voice loud enough for all to hear.

After that, the arguments and grumbling stopped but still Alessandra felt like she was always on the outside of the circle during any function looking in until Riven came into her life. One thing lead to another after he had asked her to dance with him and soon she found herself falling head-over-heals for one she knew was a Faë but who still won her over with his understanding of Witchkind. But there were others who laid claim to him. One was Darcy of the infamous Trix. She boiled inside thinking how she once admired the Trix and wanted be like them and accepted by the most powerful trio of Witches on Alfea. And what did she get and especially from Icy: lied to, cheated, deceived, dissed at every turn and forced to do their homework for them so they could get good grades while they goofed off. And she and Stormy were no better. Finally, when they forced her to spy for them and to collect information for them so they could steal the Codex and then abandoned her, she snapped. When Mirta came shortly thereafter with the offer that would allow her to attend Alfea College on a student exchange program, she jumped at the chance to escape the Trix and their abuse. Well, Icy is no more, and Stormy has been reduced to the state of a child against whom she can hold no malice but Darcy is still Darcy and pay-back is long overdue. The other laying claim to Riven was Musa, the Faerie of Music, and a friend of Bloom, Stella and Flora who had helped her so much. Musa, Alessandra did not want to hurt. But it is said that Musa had first claim on Riven and Darcy stole him from her. Perhaps if she helped Musa to get Riven back, then perhaps, just perhaps, she would be grateful enough to share Riven with her.


	3. The Underground to Binos

Chapter 3 : The Underground to Binos

Tecna likes to be up early with the first sun that rises to shine upon Alfea, do her morning ritual of exercises and stretches, shower, dress and have breakfast. Today, she hardly has the first mouthful of breakfast swallowed when there is a gentle knocking at her door. Curious about who could possibly be calling at this early hour, Tecna makes her way quickly to the door and slowly opens it. The first thing she notices about her visitor is that she has dark chocolate brown eyes, her raven hair done up in a high ponytail and she has a Mediterranean olive complexion. She is dressed in mostly black and white and looks very familiar… and she is not alone.

"We seem to keep doing this to each other, Tecna," says Ishandra in a pleasant mezzo voice. "I never know which of your many faces you're going to present to me on any given day but, I must say, that your Enchantix form is adorable and a big change for the better from your geek outfit. Oh! Yes! And good morning to you."

Baffled, Tecna is frozen in the doorway like a computer caught in an endless loop trying to evaluate too many shades of the colour grey until Ishandra says, "Are you going to invite us in?"

"Yes, good morning," says Tecna still uncertain why it is her visitor looks so familiar, "do come in."

The woman enters and the tinier, younger woman with a small duffle bag in tow follows behind her. Tecna regards the younger woman with her blue-black hair and stylized lightening bolts painted on her cheeks and the gently pulsating Whisperian crystal embedded into her skin just below her collarbone, and things begin to add up in her mind. This is Stormy, now called Leffi, a Witch who has received the here before unheard of interspecies neural net liken unto the one she herself possesses that gives her and her people the cybernetic ability to interface with many devices, and which also regulates some of her bodily functions. The other woman is Icy who now calls herself Ishandra. It felt strange for even Tecna to have these two former enemies in her apartment and to be chatting with them like long-standing neighbours.

"How did you manage to get in here?" asks Tecna puzzled. "I thought the barrier around Alfea College would have kept you out."

"We came in by the main entrance, took the staircase on the right, went up three flights of stairs to your floor and here we are," replies Ishandra with an amused expression on her face. "As for the barrier, we passed right through it. It is programmed to block Icy and Stormy but not Ishandra and Leffi. When it could not match our new profiles to any among the 'do not admit' profiles it had in storage, it let us by."

"Logical," says Tecna and then all three stand there saying nothing for almost a minute until Tecna finally asks, "Why is it you have come here?"

"I need to make a request of you," says Ishandra, "but, first of all, is Musa here?"

"No," replies Tecna. "Musa is at Bloom's apartment at a sleepover with the others."

"You're not there with them?" asks Ishandra, surprised.

"No," says Tecna honestly. "I always feel like the odd Faerie out at these sleepovers. I enjoy some of it, but, I dread being caught up in a game of Truth or Dare. I always choose truth and I am compelled to always tell the truth. There are some private matters I want to keep private. In addition, I am often times asked questions – especially by Stella – to which they do not want to hear the naked truth. I end up bruising egos, hurting feelings, and upsetting people, and, then I am shunned by all for a week after. So it comes down to sleepovers being a social activity I rather not join in and that seems to suit the others just fine. But, anyway," says Tecna, "what does Musa being here have to do with anything?"

"It's just that the fewer who know about what I'm about to ask you, the better," replies Ishandra. "To the point, I need you to take Leffi to Binos where she'll be safe and perhaps while there, she could be trained on how to use her new cybernetic powers."

Tecna suddenly realizes that she has been impolite ignoring Leffi while in conversation with Ishandra and by not offering either of them so much as a cup of tea. She regards Leffi, the woman-child, and her mind is still struggling to accept that a Witch could possess a neural net which she always believed to be proper only to Faeriekind and her people in particular. But then again, who in all Alfea would have believed, not that long ago, that a Witch could also achieve Charmix and Enchantix status? Yet, these were strange times in which she had witnessed all these things. But what still burned in her ears was Layla's fiery rebuke when she accused them all of talking-the-Faerie talk but not walking-the-Faerie walk and that they should start by showing the former members of the much hated Trix a good measure of magnanimity by accepting Ishandra and Leffi as new, pristine creatures and to stop regarding them as the evil Icy and Stormy of days now gone by. It is then Tecna decides to help Leffi out – if she can.

"Hello, Leffi," says Tecna. "It is nice to see you again."

"It is also nice seeing you again, Mistress Tecna," replies Leffi in High Alfean, using all the appropriate, polite forms of the pronouns and polite, medium honorifics and Tecna smiles, having been addressed by Leffi in her native tongue.

"I am brewing some black currant tea," Tecna tells the two of them, "would you like some? I can leave out the honey, if you prefer. And for you, Leffi, I think I can also find you an unsweetened horehound lollypop. Why don't we all sit around the table and discuss things?"

"That would be great," replies Ishandra, "and you don't have to leave out the honey. We Witches cannot taste what you Faeries call 'sweet' but we still consume quite a bit of honey for its restorative properties. We think honey is best eaten right from the comb along with the beeswax and even the crunchy bee larvae."

"Eeew!" replies Tecna, shivering and making a face and Leffi giggles.

"What's the matter with them?" asks Ishandra, amused by Tecna's reaction. "Insects are plentiful, come in a variety of shapes, sizes, and tastes, and they are almost entirely high quality protein without the harmful cholesterol found in animal meat. Look at Miss Griffin. She has survived two hundred years as an insectivore and I dare you to find an ounce of fat that doesn't belong on her or to have guessed her true age before I told you."

"Miss Faragonda must be about the same age," replies Tecna, "but I know for a fact she does not eat insects. The very idea of eating something that could wiggle, jiggle or tickle in my stomachs is just too…" and again she shivers.

"Well, there are some things that we both like," says Ishandra. "We both like the meaty parts of walnuts, acorns, hazelnuts and suchlike but only you Faeries have the double sets of teeth and double chambered stomachs to grind and digest the shells along with them. And to eat bamboo stocks and raw cassava the way you Faeries do would be committing suicide for a Witch. So, you see, one reason why we do coexist on Alfea is because we occupy different niches in the ecosystem."

A small bell chimes just then and Tecna gets up to fetch the pot of tea and to pour each a cup. "To get back to the real subject at hand," says Tecna, "why is it that Leffi needs protection?"

"You are aware, I'm sure," says Ishandra, "that Darcy, Leffi and I are finished as a Trix. I need to go my own way but Leffi cannot come with me and to leave her with her sister, Darcy, would leave her open to Darcy's anger and abuse once she realizes that I have gone for good. Darcy could end up killing her."

"Surely not," says Tecna, surprised. "You three are sisters, are you not?"

"Leffi and Darcy are true blood sisters," explains Ishandra, "but, although related, I am really more like a distant cousin of the two. A long story and we are straying off topic again. Darcy is not herself these days. She is suffering from raging hormones – a condition you like to call 'being in love'."

"But why should that be a problem?" asks Tecna, perplexed. "For us, it is a cause for celebration when two people fall in love. Why should it be different with Darcy?"

"Because…" says Ishandra, "the object of Darcy's affections is Riven. In her own words she wants to 'marry him, take care of his house, be his good little Witch wife and bear his children'."

"Children?!" gasps Tecna shocked. "Is she daft? Witches and Faën cannot have children – they are biologically incompatible. There isn't even a small hope of it. Surely, you explained that to her. And, yes, I can see why you would not want Musa hearing about this – although I am sure that she suspects that something is still going on between the two of them. And what shocks me even more is that Riven has not said a word to Darcy about it."

"Darcy has probably so bewitched Riven's mind that he does not know what he is doing half the time," says Ishandra with a sigh, "and she has probably messed up her own mind in the process. There's just no reasoning with her anymore. And you know well how immovable a Witch is when she has made up her mind about something. Darcy's a powder keg about to explode onto a Witch's rampage. Leffi will not be safe near her and Binos would be the last place Darcy would go looking for her. It would also give you an opportunity to train her on how to use her new cybernetic powers."

"All very logical," says Tecna with finality. "I'll do this for you. In fact, if we start almost immediately, I can have Leffi on Binos within the hour."

"You go with Aunt Tecna, now," says Ishandra to Leffi, "and promise me that you will behave and study hard."

"You will come see me on Binos?" asks Leffi with tears coming to her eyes.

"I promise I will come visit," says Ishandra taking Leffi into her arms for a good-bye hug. "I would never abandon my precious Little One."

"Thank you, Tecna, I owe you one for this," says Ishandra with tears coming to her own eyes.

"Nonsense," says Tecna. "This is what Faerie sisters do for each other all the time."


	4. The Ice Palace

**Chapter 4 : The Ice Palace**

Stella gently knocks on Bloom and Flora's door and then pushes it open. "Are you going to sleep all day?" she asks the two.

"Stel, gimme a break!" groans Bloom through a yawn. "The first sun is barely up!"

"Dawlings, the first sun is near its zenith and the second sun is just rising, sleepyheads," replies Stella.

Bloom sits up, rubs her eyes, yawns as she puts on her dressing gown and goes to the window to open the curtains. "There, the first sun is just rising," she is about to say when she realizes that it_ is _the second sun that is just peeking over the horizon. Confused, Bloom looks over to the west where the first sun should be shining through her window to find that a new structure has blocked it almost completely and is casting its long shadow over her balcony.

"When did this appear?" Bloom asks Stella.

"What are you talking about?" asks Stella as she comes to join Bloom on her balcony. Then Flora too joins them yawning and still rubbing sleep out of her eyes.

The three look on together at the strange structure standing between Alfea College and Cloud Tower. The structure appears to be made from giant blocks of ice but is it a palace, a fort, neither or both they can't tell.

"It has some style," remarks Stella, "however, it looks as if it were built by a Faerie and a Witch together but neither could decide which way to go with it so they opted for a compromise. Perhaps we should name it 'The Jumble'," and the others giggle.

"Well," says Flora, "although it is built like a fortification with ramparts and a mote around it, it does not appear to be guarded. The drawbridge is down and the gates are wide open. I would interpret this to be an invitation to us to come to visit and to welcome our new neighbour. I would suggest, though, that we wear our hiking apparel and not dresses or miniskirts. I have the impression that we will be out and roughing it on an adventure today."

"What makes you say that, Flora?" asks Stella.

"Just a feeling – something blowing in the wind," replies Flora.

"Your feelings are usually bang on," says Stella. "I'll round up the others and tell them that we are about to head out on an adventure."

Within the hour, the six Winx Faeries are together by the front gates of Alfea College all dressed in sturdy shorts, short sleeved blouses, sturdy over-jackets matching their shorts and knee-high hiking boots. Upon their heads are very military style pith helmets with chin straps and a flaring section in back to protect the neck from sunburn.

"Shall we be off?" asks the Sunshine Faerie as she lifts from the ground and the others follow her heading towards the new structure. Upon reaching it, they do not do a fly-over but, as custom and protocol dictate, they land in front of the gates to enter through them on foot.

"It is more spacious than I would have expected," observes Layla. "There is room enough here for a small village plus a market place."

"It also looks like a good spot to hold a musical concert," puts in Musa.

"Where is our hostess, is what I want to know," says Bloom, looking about. "Surely, someone must have seen our approach."

"What are those?" asks Flora, pointing at six beasts tethered to a post above a watering trough.

"Horses!" exclaims Bloom with joy. "But I thought they didn't exist on Alfea."

"What are they used for?" asks Layla, who obviously has never seen a horse before this either.

"They are riding and draught animals," replies Bloom.

"They don't look to be very practical for either function," remarks Tecna. "A yoke would probably break their backs or their necks and this bunch doesn't appear up to the task of drawing anything of any weight but they are beautiful to look at, nonetheless."

"That's strange coming from you, Tecna," laughs Bloom, "but you are, however, right about the use of a yoke. It would break their backs or necks so that is why they are harnessed instead. For drawing wagons and such, there might be as many as six of them harnessed in a double tandem. These particular horses are of the riding and racing breed and look to be already saddled."

"Exactly right," replies a mezzo voice behind them and they all turn around to meet the speaker who has joined them.

"Hello, Big Sister," Bloom addresses Ishandra who is wearing a black leather outfit akin to her one time Witch's garb but with baggy legs. Her long, raven hair is done up in a tress down her back, upon her head is a hard leather cap and in her hand is a leather switch.

"Hello, Little Sister," replies Ishandra, smiling at Bloom. "What do you think of my new palace?"

"It is… err… quite different," says Bloom somewhat hesitantly.

"No doubt that it is," laughs Ishandra. "It took me a whole six hours to build because part of me wanted to go one way and part of me wanted to go another and it took some time to get both sides of myself to agree on a design," and Stella giggles.

"I can see that a lot of thought went into detail," remarks Tecna. "It looks to be very functional yet elegant."

"Thank you, Tecna," replies Ishandra, smiling and with a blush coming to her cheeks. "I take great pride in all that I do and it makes me feel good when others notice."


	5. The Gifts

**Chapter 5 : The Gifts**

"Are you expecting more visitors?" Flora asks Ishandra.

"No, just you six," replies Ishandra. "The horses are gifts for you, if that's what you want to know. I will stable them and supply fodder but you will be responsible for being here at least one hour a day to groom and give them exercise. I will teach you all how to do that."

"For us?!" asks Musa, surprised. "But why?"

"Because, Musa, my dear," replies Ishandra, "you may not believe it after all the years we spent fighting each other over the Dragon Fire but you six Faeries have saved my life. These are but small tokens of my thanks."

"I don't know what to say," stammers Musa.

"Just say 'Thank you'," says Ishandra.

"Thank you, Ishandra," replies Musa humbly and the others join in with their thanks.

"Now," says Ishandra, "let's see who will end up with which horse."

"We get to pick our own?" asks Stella excitedly.

"No," replies Ishandra to the Sunshine Faerie. "It is better to let them choose with whom they want to be. All except for you, Layla. I have one already picked out especially for you."

Ishandra signals Layla to follow and they both fly over to the horses and unhitch all but the last and then fly quickly back to rejoin the others. "Move into the courtyard and spread yourselves fairly far apart," Ishandra orders the five remaining Faeries.

The five un-tethered horses are milling about as if wondering what to do with their sudden freedom until a black one and, possibly, the alpha mare of the group, decides that there is something very alright about Flora and gallops up to her and starts sniffing at her hair and face and starts nibbling at the top of her head.

"Hey! Hey! Hey!" protests Flora, laughing. "What's this all about?"

"That was quick," remarks Ishandra, surprised. "There must be something special about you, Flora. Are you wearing some sort of fragrance?"

"Yes, apple blossom," replies Flora.

"That'll do it," laughs Bloom. "You had better give her an apple before she decides to take a bigger bite of your head," and everyone laughs.

"Is this what you want, sweetie?" says Flora to the mare as she summons a piece of the red fruit to her hand and offers it to her.

"Hold your hand flat!" both Ishandra and Bloom warn Flora. "She might bite off some of your fingers along with the apple if you are not careful," finishes Ishandra.

"I'm well aware of that," says Flora, sounding somewhat miffed. "I've handled dragons and know that if you are not careful when hand-feeding them you may find your hand gone at the elbow. I would imagine that it is the same for horses."

_"I will give my love an apple without e're a core," _Bloom begins to sing.

"Say, I know that song!" exclaims Ishandra. "My father used to sing it all the time to my mother," and sings, _"My head is the apple without e're a core."_

There is a burst of laughter when the others realize the fun being poked at Flora's expense. "Well!" says Flora with her hands on her hips. She looks about to say more when the black mare nudges Flora's shoulder nearly knocking her to the ground.

"You want another apple or some attention, don't you," says Flora to the black mare. "And I guess I will need to give you a name. I shall call you Valentina," and Flora's horse bobs its head up and down as if in accord with Flora's choice.

"That's a nice name… ooff!" says Bloom as she nearly takes a face-fall when another of the horses quietly comes up from behind and bunts her back with its head. "Hello!" says Bloom to the chestnut mare. "I shall call you Flika."

"Also a pretty name," says Ishandra. "Scandinavian, I believe."

"Yes," says Bloom. "I believe it is Swedish for 'little girl'. It comes from a story my mother would read me when I was a child. It is about a boy who tames a wild horse and names her Flika."

As if this were a signal to the other horses, they start coming up to the remaining Faeries. First, a golden mare comes up to Stella who nearly squeals in delight, "You are the very one I wanted!" But when the golden mare nickers and moves away from her, Stella realizes her mistake and addresses her more gently, "Come here, my beautiful dawling. I'm going to call you Lucia and I am going to love you forever... but now, I'll need a whole new wardrobe so I'll look gorgeous while riding you," and the mare comes back to her and rests her cheek against Stella's head. Then, a pure white mare trots up to Tecna. "I shall call you Wot'à," says Tecna which in her parlance means the 'wise' or 'well-mannered one'. Finally, a dapple gray mare makes her way to Musa. "You I shall call Melodia," says Musa.

Layla is standing to the side feeling ignored during all this and looking as if she were the odd Faerie out. "Come to the fore and I shall untie the last one," Ishandra tells her. "You others, hold onto the reigns of your horses so this last one knows that you are already taken."

Ishandra unties the last animal and, sure enough, the white and black striped mare comes right up to Layla. "You are beautiful!" Layla tells her.

Then, it suddenly hits Bloom what the nature of the creature before Layla really is. "Layla," gasps Bloom. "That's not a horse. It's a zebra!"

"What's that?" asks Layla.

"Oh, it's just a horse of a different stripe," quips Ishandra, grinning.

"Huh?" replies Layla, frowning and looking totally confused.

"She's teasing you, Layla," laughs Bloom. "A zebra is a kind of horse but not all horses are zebras. But, Big Sister, I thought zebras were a lot smaller, really nasty and cannot be ridden."

"That may be true of those still living in Africa," explains Ishandra, "but this one was born and grew up on New Witch Haven. Hundreds of years of being free to roam vast plains with ample good grazing and no real predators have allowed them to grow bigger and much of their former ornery temperament has been bred out of them."

"I guess I should name you now," says Layla to her zebra companion.

"Just do me a favour and don't name her Stripes," pleas Ishandra.

"Why not?" asks Layla. "It would seem to be a suitable name for her."

"Yiips! Stripes!" quips Stella, laughing.

"That's exactly why," groans Ishandra, rolling her eyes towards the heavens.

"Well," says Layla, "in that case, I shall give her one of my most favourite names which is Tsiporah."

"That sounds like a bird's song," smiles Musa.

"How did you know that?" exclaims Layla.


	6. A Riding Lesson

**Chapter 6 : A Riding Lesson**

"Do we get to ride them now?" asks Stella.

"You're really gung-ho about this, aren't you Stella, but no," says Ishandra. "There is a bonding ceremony that has to be done first. Now, I want you all to stand really close to your horses against the front leg and, taking the side of her bridle, gently pull her head towards you. This is the stance that a mare takes when protecting her offspring called a colt for a male or a filly for a female. If you do this properly, she will accept you as her own."

"Much the same has to be done between a dragon and its rider," says Flora. "Although, it is best done as it is hatching from its egg. Dragons are more like birds in this respect. A hatchling will form a bond with the first creature it sees whether it is its mother or no."

"That is interesting, Flora," says Ishandra.

"Is this like when we bonded with our Pixies?" asks Musa.

"Somewhat," replies Ishandra, "but the process is a little more straight-forward and there is no dream-fasting similar to what happens between a Faerie and her bonded Pixie."

"It would be interesting to know what Piff might make of a horse's dream," muses Layla.

"Aren't some of our dreams scary enough?" replies Bloom, laughing.

"Don't we have this a bit backwards?" asks Tecna. "Isn't it us who are interfacing with the horse?"

"It goes both ways, Tecna," replies Ishandra. "It is not the same as connecting yourself to an unfeeling piece of steel and silicon that automatically does your bidding without ever tiring or complaining."

"There are organic computers," counters Tecna, "and many say that they have feelings like you or I and a kind of bonding occurs between an organic computer and its user."

"Now, you are into things I won't even pretend I understand," is Ishandra's reply to Tecna. "Such bonds may exist but I'm not the one to say 'yea' or 'nay'."

"Flora," says Ishandra, turning to the Faerie of Nature. "You seem to be the one among us with experience in handling animals. What other comparisons do you think you can make between dragons and horses?"

"One should never approach either a dragon or a horse from behind," states Flora. "Both beasts have good peripheral vision but there is a blind spot in back. Both animals consider an approach from behind as a potential attack from a predator. A dragon can bisect you with a single lash of its tail and a kick from a horse's back legs would probably kill you too."

"Very true," says Ishandra. "Layla, your zebra has better peripheral vision than a horse but the same rule applies. What else, Flora?"

"Dragons don't like people reaching for their eyes because they too are favourite predator attack points," says Flora.

"But wait!" objects Bloom. "I thought that dragons were the all-powerful ones with no natural predators. What do they have to fear?"

"Other dragons," replies Ishandra, Mistress of the White Ice Dragon Fire, with a raised eyebrow and a sly smile. "I would have expected you to know that already, Little Sister."

"Still very good, Flora," praises Ishandra, "I shall make a horsewoman of you yet."

Ishandra has the girls lead their horses about the perimeter of the courtyard. "Use the movement of your heads and a gentlepull of the reins to guide your horses to where you want them to go," she tells them. However, when Stella pulls too hard on the reins and her horse whinnies and shies in protest, Ishandra shouts as her, "Ease up, Stella, I told you to use just a gentle pull. The reins are attached to a bit that is over a delicate part of her mouth where her tongue and gums are. It does not take much to cause her pain."

After about an hour of having the girls walk their horses across and about the courtyard, Ishandra announces to them that they are ready to mount and ride their horses. "Stand at their sides and fly up upon their backs," Ishandra tells them. "Let your horses know that it is you who are mounting them. Be gentle when you land upon their backs."

Again Ishandra has the girls ride their mounts about the perimeter of the courtyard. "Your posture is excellent, Flora," Ishandra tells her. "Yours is also good, Bloom. Musa, sit up straight and do not slouch over the back of your horse."

"A lady must always remember to sit up straight at all times and exercise good posture," says Tecna in a perfect voice imitation of Musa's bonded Pixie, Tune, and the others laugh.

"That was a good one, Tec," laughs Bloom.

"Neah!" says Musa, biting her tongue sarcastically at Bloom and the others break out again in laughter but, nonetheless, Musa assumes a more ladylike posture.

"Stella, your posture is good but you are way too stiff. Relax a tad and allow yourself to move with the movements of your horse," Ishandra tells her. "Layla, you are also doing well," she tells the golden-skinned Faerie.

Ishandra continues to guide the girls as they ride their horses around the perimeter of the courtyard. But Stella's impatience surfaces again when her horse, Lucia, does not make the turn as smartly as Stella thought she should and she pulls hard on Lucia's reigns making the horse whinny, rear and stomp the ground. This time, Ishandra flies quickly up to Stella and whacks her hands hard across the back with her leather switch.

"Ouch!" yelps Stella. "What was that for?"

"Did that hurt, Stella?" drones Ishandra.

"What do you think?" replies Stella, wincing while examining the back of her smarting hands.

"Well, that's good," replies Ishandra. "Now you know how Lucia feels every time you yank on the reins… and don't give me that look, Stella. I don't care if you think that you're Princess High-and-Mighty and that you father and mother are the King and Queen of Solaria. Hurt Lucia one more time and I will take her away from you as easily as I gave her to you."

« Isn't that just a tad harsh, Isha? » sends Layla telepathically to Ishandra. « Offer Stella some incentive other than punishment to be easy with Lucia. You will find it works a lot better with her than a lash across the hands. »

"Look, Stella," says Ishandra, trying hard to keep her voice at a normal pitch. "A horse is not an instant learner nor is it telepathic so it can read your mind. No, it takes a great deal of time and patience for it to come to know you and what you expect of it. If Lucia gets the idea early on in her mind that all she is going to experience is pain and abuse every time you mount her, then she will do anything but cooperate with you. It leaves a near indelible impression of you on her that is difficult, if not impossible, to undo later."

"Listen to Ishandra, Stella," says Flora, the empathic Faerie of Nature, who has ridden up on Valentina to join the conversation. "She speaks wisely. Even a tough-hided dragon responds a lot better to patience and respect than a lash. Moreover, Stella, every time you cause Lucia hurt, you are also hurting me because I can feel her pain."

Flora's remark has the golden-haired Faerie stunned into silence for a long minute. "I'm sorry," she finally murmurs.


	7. A Picnic In The Park

**Chapter 7 : A Picnic In The Park**

"Apology accepted," replies Ishandra to Stella. "Just keep in mind what I have told you."

Ishandra looks about and sees that the confrontation with Stella has set all the Faeries and also the horses on edge. "I have a picnic planned for us all," she announces to the Faeries. "I have packed all the provisions in your saddlebags. Are you ready to go?"

"Yes!" is everyone's enthusiastic reply. Then Tecna rides up beside Bloom and whispers to her behind her hand, "I just hope it won't be a buggy-wuggy banquet, yech!"

"I heard that," says Ishandra, catching Tecna off guard and causing her to blush. "I have selected items that we all can eat and enjoy," she assures the Faerie of Technology.

"Where is your horse, Ishandra?" asks Layla.

Ishandra makes a two-toned whistle and a horse neighs and trots out of the stable to join her side.

"Such a beautiful horse!" exclaims Flora. "What's her name?"

"Latifa," replies Ishandra with pride and love glowing in her eyes. "She is actually Latifa II. The original Latifa, for me at least, was a black mare I used to ride when I lived in Italy on Terra. She also had a twin sister named Nefert that my mother used to ride. They didn't actually belong to us but were the property of a friend and trading partner of my father's named Abraham, who sailed out of Morocco and around an inland sea called the Mediterranean Sea. When he made it into our port in Italy, he would stay for a time and ride them. In between times, he paid us to stable them and take care of them. My mother and I ended up riding them more often than he did. It was one of my small pleasures."

Ishandra pauses for a moment with a sad look on her face as if reliving a tragic time of her life. "I don't know what happed to either of them after my mother was killed by witch hunters and I had to go into hiding and then was brought by a rescue party to Alfea. I just hope that someone kind continued to care for them after we were gone… but I digress."

Ishandra mounts Latifa and turns her towards the gates. "The horses know where we are headed," she tells the Faeries. "Just relax, enjoy the ride and let them follow Latifa and me."

Sometime about an hour later, the group reaches an clearing with a few trees standing like sentinels along its border. Ishandra tells the Faeries to dismount from the side in the manner they mounted their horses.

"Need we tie them?" asks Tecna.

"No," replies Ishandra. "There is good grazing here and after we empty the saddlebags, we can allow them to wander and graze to their hearts' content."

Once the saddlebags are emptied and their contents set upon a large blanket that has been spread on the ground, the Faeries are all wide-eyed over the banquet that is spread out before them.

"You made all this yourself?" asks Flora, astounded.

"Yes," replies Ishandra, "and I will be very disappointed if there is not something there to please each of your pallets. These are all dishes from Terra but am sure you will like them."

There is excited chatter and fluttering of wings as the Faeries begin to open all the containers and explore the delicious smells and tastes.

"Whoa!" exclaims Layla, reaching for a glass of water. "This is fiery but delicious. What is it?"

"It is a mixture of boiled grains and a spice called piri-piri," Ishandra tells her. "If you like that, do try the Japanese cucumber rolls here with the hot wasabi."

"Is there any raw cassava?" asks Stella, hopefully.

"No, sorry," replies Ishandra to Stella. "That is poisonous to Witches but do try the palm nut soup with foufou.

"What are these?" asks Flora, holding up yet another of the many dishes.

"Chilled agar-agar noodles in peanut sauce," Ishandra tells her.

"And this?" asks Musa.

"Boc Choy, water chestnuts, bean sprouts and fried tofu in soy sauce," Ishandra tells her. "Why am I not surprised that you like it, Musa? There is also a soup there made with tofu stuffed wontons in a vegetable broth."

"Kiko would have loved this," says Bloom, digging into the carrot, walnut and raisin salad. "And the flower petal salad is delicious. It reminds me of the ones my adoptive mother would make for me."

"This looks to be interesting," says Tecna, holding up what looks like a large cracker with toppings.

"It is what we call 'Arabic pizza' at home," Ishandra tells her. "It is a thinly baked, whole wheat foundation topped with pine nuts, finely chopped pomodoro and herbs but to make it Faerie friendly I have replaced the ground lamb with jasmine flavoured soy mince."

"It's delicious!" exclaims Tecna, relishing the taste and at the same time thankful that it's not a Witches' buggy-wuggy delicacy.

Layla then realizes that during all this Ishandra has not taken even a bite to eat. "Are you not going to partake of this feast?" she asks her.

"I have brought something special just for me," Ishandra replies to Layla and opening a long box takes from it what looks like a slender stick through a brown blob with eight legs coming from it.

"Is that what I think it is?" asks Bloom, cringing.

"Could be," Ishandra tells her, "if you are thinking of battered tarantula deep-fried in canola oil," as she proceeds to bite off the legs.

"What's that?" ask Stella.

"It is a large arachnid native to my home town, Taranto, in Italy," Ishandra tells her.

Puzzled, Stella turns to Bloom for clarification. "It's a big and hairy, creepy-crawly spider with bad 'tude and what-kick-butt," says Bloom in a scary voice as she wriggles her fingers pretending that it is one of the large spiders about to land on Stella's shoulder.

"Eeeek!" screams Stella, batting away Bloom's hand and shoving her.

The two Faeries tussle with each other but Bloom, who is the stronger of the two, has Stella quickly wrestled to the ground and the blue eyes of the Mistress of the Red Dragon Fire are looking passionately down into hers.

"No, Bloom," groans Stella near panic. "This is way too freaky for me. I feel really and truly sorry for you and about Sky leaving you and marrying Princess Diaspro. I'm pleased to have been able to comfort you some, but, I'm now happily married to Brandon and just cannot engage in the kind of relationship you want with me."

"Peace out, Sisters!" exclaims Flora gently to the two Faeries.

_"Viens ici, ma biche,"_ says the Mistress of the White Ice Dragon Fire to Bloom and pats the blanket beside her. Bloom comes over and rests her head on Ishandra's shoulder while Ishandra rests her chin upon Bloom's head and gently caresses Bloom's cheek and runs her fingers through her shoulder length red hair. "You're still not over him, are you, Little Sister? I can only offer you the wisdom of age and tell you that, in time, the pain will go away or, at least, become bearable. I'm sure that, very soon, a gorgeous, young Faerie, such as you are, will find a noble, young Faë who will be worthier of you than Prince Charming of Eraklyon ever was."

"I know your pain, sweetie," says the empathic Faerie of Nature to Bloom, "and we are all here, as your sisters*, to help you get through this."

"You can count on it, Bloom!" seconds Layla with a goodly jot of anger and disgust mixed with the consoling tones of her voice.

Author's Note: The word translated here as "sister" is actually much broader in scope than can be expressed in English. Both Faeries and Witches live in communities where each member is regarded as a sister. A female sibling is referred to as a "blood sister" or, less often, as a "true sister" The closest English comes to this is the way members of certain religious orders call themselves sisters or brothers.


	8. The BrokenHearted Princess

**Chapter 8 : The Broken-Hearted Princess**

« She's taking it pretty hard, isn't she? Sky! Damn him! I so want to wring his royal neck or, at least, lop off his right hand for stealing Bloom's heart and then breaking it, » storms Layla telepathically to Ishandra, her expression filled with deep sympathy for Bloom.

« An appropriate punishment for a thief whether or not the theft is figurative or literal. I've already talked to Bloom about the possibility of paying a surprise visit to Eraklyon and giving Sky a taste of fire and ice where it hurts but she is dead against it, » replies Ishandra.

« But why? » sends Layla, momentarily confused. « I thought it would be a case of not being able to hold her back. »

« She wants to make a clean break of it and I think that, in this case, she is showing more wisdom than we are. I had to learn the hard way after taking vengeance against the citizens of Taranto who were responsible for slaying my mother. It brought me no satisfaction and left me an angry, cruel, spiteful, callus and cold-hearted young Witch who rightly deserved the name 'Icy', » says Ishandra, while looking gently down at Bloom who is dozing off on her shoulder.

« We should have known what kind of a person Sky is when he did his little identity switch with Brandon, » continues the Mistress of the White Ice Dragon Fire. « I don't believe for an instant now that he did it so he could know what it is like to live life as a commoner. No. I think what is behind it is that he knew that, sooner or later, he would have to give into the wishes of his parents and marry Princess Diaspro. So, while he was here on Alfea, he switched his identity so he could have his little dalliances and keep his name clean and hopefully keep any knowledge of his secret love affairs away from his mother and father on Eraklyon. And Brandon is loyal enough to Sky to take the fall for him if there was any trouble. I don't think that Sky expected Stella, Bloom and the others to sneak into the arena during the Day of the Royals and throw a spanner into everything. He could have kept it up indefinitely if it were not for that. All in all, the only one who seems to have benefited at all is Stella and her marriage to Brandon. As for Princess Diaspro, I feel sorry for her. »

« Why would you feel sorry for Princess Diaspro? » asks Layla, puzzled. « She is always being so obnoxious. »

« I think that to be truly obnoxious, she would have to take spoiled brat lessons from Chimera, » replies Ishandra, analytically and Layla mentally giggles. « Diaspro is just protecting what by royal decree is rightfully hers. I feel that in her hearts-of-hearts, she truly loves Sky and it must have caused her deep pain to learn that Sky had been cheating on both Bloom and her all this time. »

« I think I understand what you are getting at, » Layla tells Ishandra. « We practice arranged marriages on Tides as well. Often, a young couple has to be dragged kicking and screaming into these arranged marriages but, in the long run, they work out. Most on Alfea think that it is love then marriage but, often as not on Tides, it is marriage and then love. I have seen it happen so many times where a newly wed couple do not want anything to do with each other and then suddenly, like magic, they are madly and devotedly in love with each other and their marriage lasts until the day one of them dies. Some say that all it takes is one slobbery and passionate kiss whether heartfelt, sincere, or not from a guy on her mouth to have a woman swooning in love with him. That is why kissing between the sexes is forbidden on Tides until after marriage. »

« Strange you should mention that, » sends Ishandra. « We Witches have what is thought of as a love potion in our saliva. We prefer a more direct method for administering it, though. We accidentally on purpose make a small nick – the neck being the usual target area – then offer to make the wound better by licking the affected area. Well, » continues Ishandra with a glint in her eyes, « that is not quite the truth but is not entirely a lie. True, our saliva does have healing properties but the main thing is to get the love potion directly into the bloodstream. Besides making the guy crazy in love with that particular Witch, it also changes his scent which acts like a signal to all other Witches saying, 'this guy belongs to me so all you others keep your paws off of him!' »

« Ah! » says Layla with a smile. « So that is what is meant by the expression 'bewitching'! » observes Layla and also setting Ishandra to laughing.

« Getting back to Bloom. I don't think Sky's parents would allow him to marry her even if he did insist, » says Ishandra.

« That's a pretty mean thing to say, Isha, » replies Layla, her expression turning sullen.

« Look at it this way, » says Ishandra. « You know from the arranged marriages that exist on Tides that there is more to them than just whether or not the couple being brought together will be living happily ever after. What does Bloom have to offer? She is beautiful and powerful. But what of her power? Up until recently, all she could do with her gift of the Dragon Fire is set stupendous fires and blast everything and everyone out of the sky and into next week. That might be useful during wartime but otherwise what practical use is it for running a kingdom during peacetime? Bloom may be royalty but she is a princess without a realm, she has no wealth to speak of nor does she own any land. Most of all, Bloom is not palace bred like you and Stella. I doubt that she could live the royal life of being in a glass house all the time and also being so intelligent and wilful she would argue and protest all commands she did not like from her father and mother-in-law and become for them – and pardon the dreadful pun – a royal thorn in their sides. Now, I'm sure that Sky's parents love him and want the best for him, but, as King and Queen of Eraklyon, would you break a marriage contract that was most likely established when Sky and Diaspro were still in diapers so your son could marry the girl of his dreams and risk loosing all that had been contracted and possibly touching off a war between two families that could go on for generations? »

« Yes, I see, » admits Layla, « that this is the cruel and unjust side of arranged marriages but I still wish there was something a little more concrete I could do for her. »

« All you can do for her for the moment is be there for her when she needs a shoulder to cry on and consoling, » says Ishandra. « The rest she will need to work out for herself. And who is to say that this will not work out for the best for her? For all we know, Prince Right is waiting just around the corner for her. »

« That is optimistic but I hope that it will come true for her, » sighs Layla with a gentle look falling upon a sleeping Bloom.


	9. Our Homes Icy 1

**Chapter 9 : Our Homes… So Far Away: Ishandra, Part 1**

"Ishandra," says Flora softly, "I have heard you often speak of your home in Italy on Terra but you have never told us much about it other than that. What is it like?"

"Yes," says Stella, her interest piqued, "I would love to hear about it and especially about the styles and what's in fashion."

"So would I," says Bloom, having awoken from her short nap on Ishandra's shoulder. "I was sent to Terra from Sparx by my sister, Daphne, but you were born there. It must have been quite different for you while you were growing up."

"Well, where to begin?" begins Ishandra. "Yes, I was born and grew up on Terra but I did not live during the same time or even on the same continent as Bloom. I was born on a peninsula, which is shaped like a high boot, called Italy in the port city of Taranto which is in the arch and just before the heel of the boot. The best reckoning puts my date of birth, according to the system used on Terra, as sometime in the spring of 1798. We think it was about mid-April."

"You're not sure when you were born?" asks Flora with a look of disbelief. "But why?"

"You have to be aware that infant mortality was high in those times and mothers often died from childbed fever and other complications shortly after giving birth," explains Ishandra. "After giving birth in those days, one was more concerned about whether mother or child or both would survive the ordeal than about the actual date of birth."

"Being a Witch in those days was perilous," continues Ishandra. "There was no tolerance for Witches as there is on Alfea and other worlds and, if one was caught, she would be put to death by being drowned, being burnt at the stake or garrotted. My mother was a Witch who always lived in fear of being caught and when it became obvious that I also had powers she made me swear never to use them in front of the populace and especially not in front of my father."

"Why?" asks Tecna. "Would your father have betrayed you to the witch hunters if he knew?"

"No, nothing like that, Tecna," Ishandra tells her. "We did it to protect him because, among other things, a man could be executed for harbouring a Witch. My mother told me that my father would do all he could to protect his wife and his little girl even if he knew our secrets but there was only so much he, as one man, could do and also, being at sea much of the time, he was not always around to protect us. It is for these reasons and for our great love for him that my mother said that we had to keep secret from him our true natures."

My mother still used her knowledge of witchcraft to do a lot of good as a healer and she was also teaching me the healing arts so I could follow in her footsteps. However, when a servant girl killed her aged mistress using medicine my mother had given her to help the old woman's ailing heart, she was accused by this girl of practising evil witchcraft. The matter got dragged into court where the girl played all trusting and innocent. My mother had to explain how she created the medicine using a blue flower that is common to our region but she also had to explain to the court how the medicine had to be administered with great care. "Too little," my mother told the court, "would not help the old woman but too much would kill her and the line between the two extremes was a matter of a few drops." The court ruled that the old woman's death was accidental and also, because she was so old, it may have simply been her time to pass on whether or not it was before or after taking my mother's medicine.

Even though my mother was acquitted, rumours about us began to fly rampantly about the village. All of a sudden, the entire village had something to say about us and our natures. We were suddenly too tall, too graceful and too beautiful and our ears where just too pointy to be natural so we must be witches. If animals died or crops became blighted, it was our evil doing. If someone had bad fortune then it was we who jinxed him. When mothers miscarried then it was because we cursed them. And it went on but not openly. Then, when the shop owners in the marketplace finally stopped selling to us out of fear that while in their shops we would give them the evil-eye, we started to raise our own vegetables and fell back on our knowledge of edible wild plants and insects. But even then we could not escape the rumour mill. People saw us harvesting the large and potentially deadly tarantula spiders and assumed it was not because they were a source of high quality protein. No, we wanted to absorb the spiders' poison so we could spit it into people's faces and cause them to die. And when both my mother and I lost what little domestic fat we had from hard work and our vegetable and insect diet and acquired a look of chiselled beauty then the women of the village became even more jealous of us and spread stories that we used unnatural means to achieve it. And the rumours fed upon rumours and the more outrageous they were, the more people believed them, until the whole village had worked itself into a lather of fear of us.

And then we began to be hounded by people who were glad to find out that we could be witches. They were wicked people with only evil in their hearts who wanted us to cast hexes and curses on people we didn't even know for what seemed like no reason at all. There were some who wanted my mother to use her extensive knowledge of herbs to create exotic poisons so they could use them to commit murder and get away with it. There were those who wanted charms and talismans and those who wanted us to transmute lead into gold, raise people from the dead, and tell them their fortunes. But my mother refused to have any dealings with them and turned them all away. Then, if things were not already bad enough, Lady Brocia accompanied by her entourage shows up at our doorstep and demands that my mother make a love potion for her so she could have the man she wanted. My mother refused to do it telling Brocia that there was no such thing as a love potion and if there was it was no less than a philtre that would make the man her unwilling slave but not her lover and she refused to do that to anyone. Then Brocia starts wailing and blubbering that she will never have the one she wants without my mother's help at which point my mother explodes.

"Look, My Lady Brocia," she tells her, "no man will ever love you until you make yourself loveable and here is the witchcraft to do it. Firstly, amend that pompous, whining, spoiled bitch attitude of yours and learn to treat everyone with respect no matter what his or her station is in life. Secondly, get off that fat, lazy butt of yours and get some exercise. Thirdly, when you eat your meals, use a fork not a shovel. Fourthly, take a bath at least once a month and, lastly, after you have devoured a mess of pork spareribs with garlic sauce then at least do us all a favour and rinse your mouth out with some perfume. There's your answer and you can start to work on it right now."

"How dare you!" screams Brocia. "How dare you speak to me thus!"

"Well, I just did, didn't I," snarls my mother. "Now you have your answer so get out of my house!"


	10. Our Homes Icy 2

Chapter 10 : Our Homes… So Far Away: Ishandra, Part 2

"You must have grown up among some pretty superstitious and narrow-minded people," states Tecna coldly, "to make assumptions and accusations like that and to spread such rumours based only on hearsay without any research or demonstrable proof to back them."

"Yes," puts in Stella angrily, "and that Lady Brocia sounds like really bad news. Anyone like that would not be called a lady on Solaria. Your mother was right to put her in her place."

Ishandra gives the two a small thankful smile and continues. "The day came when my father and all his ships were out at sea and there was no one in port to watch over us. It seems that that was just what the villagers were waiting for, for two days later, a piece of parchment wrapped about a rock comes smashing through our window. Upon it were written just two words: 'Die witches'. My mother knew that we had to go into hiding to save our lives, so, I finally told her about the giant caves Muta and I had discovered a few years earlier with an entrance accessible only to those creatures who could fly. My mother thought it a good idea that we hold out there for a time until my father or perhaps one of my father's ships returned. So bit by bit in the cover of darkness my mother, Muta and I moved all our possessions to the cave. We might have been able to hold out there for quite a few months longer had winter not come early that year killing all the edible insects or sending them into early hibernation and all the edible wild roots were frozen in the ground and nigh impossible to dig out. Muta had stockpiled her winter provisions and was willing to share with us but, unlike her, we did not possess a Faerie's ability to subsist on tree bark and dried berries and whatever grains of wheat she could find amongst the stubble of the fields. I suggest to my mother that perhaps that, by bending the light to make ourselves invisible, we could steal whatever eggs or chickens we needed to say alive but she would hear nothing of the sort stating that she has never stolen anything in her life and was not about to start now. A few days after, all our provisions had run out and we knew that we had to do something or die."

The six Winx Club Faeries look on while Ishandra struggles trying to keep her emotions in check.

"That fateful night, my mother and I decided to risk going back to the house to recover what provisions might still be there. It was a fatal error for there must have been someone watching over our house who raised the alarm when he saw movement. Within a few moments of our arrival the villagers stormed our house from the front and behind trapping us in a room where there wasn't even a window to fly out of.

« Hide! » my mother sends urgently to me. So I wrap the light about myself and levitate against the wall trying to stay as quiet and still as possible.

My mother stands before the mob with Giuseppe, a scrawny, nervous type with a high, squeaky voice, who was then the Mayor of Taranto and, obviously, the one in charge, standing in fore. "Where is Isha?" he shrills at my mother but she remains silent.

Meanwhile, others, believing that there was now safety in numbers, must have been going through our house looking for plunder but finding none returned to report to Giuseppe that there was nothing to be had. "Where is your witch's treasure? Where is Isha?" screams Giuseppe angrily at my mother and then approaches her as if about to strike her. My mother raises her hands to protect herself and then a large club comes crashing down upon her head. She falls to the floor and her head makes a sickening sound like a smashed eggshell and a black pool begins to form around it.

"Alfonso you fool!" yells Giuseppe. "Now we will never find that witch's spawn or her treasure!"

"But she was about to cast a hex or something upon you," protests Alfonso thickly.

Someone is examining my mother and I hear Lady Brocia's voice saying, "She's still alive? We may still yet be able to get something out of her."

"Fine," squeaks Giuseppe, "but we'll take her to the hall to do it."

I watch helplessly on as two men grab my mother by her arms and drag her through a pool of her own blood and out the door. I follow but could not enter the hall where they took her. I learned only afterwards that, although they tried to interrogate her, they could get nothing from her but senseless gibberish. About an hour later, they drag her out of the hall, tie her to a stake, douse her with oil and set her ablaze. That night I changed for what I thought would be forever for with every scream from my mother while she died writhing in the flames a part of me died with her until nothing was left of me but a heart frozen solid in a block of blue ice."

The six Winx Club Faeries sit in shocked silence as Ishandra completely breaks down into tears: her hands over her face and her head resting upon her knees which she has drawn up to her chest and her shoulders shuddering with her sobs.


	11. Our Homes Icy 3

**Chapter 11 : Our Homes… So Far Away: Ishandra, Part 3**

The six Winx Club Faeries quietly form a circle around Ishandra, each stretching out her hands and touching her. The horses also come to join the circle. Latifa, Ishandra's horse, lowers her head over the Faerie circle and gently rests her cheek against Ishandra's head and nickers softly. After a few minutes, Flora wraps her arms about Ishandra's waist and, drawing her to her, allows Ishandra to rest her head upon her shoulder as she gently caresses Ishandra's cheek and kisses her forehead. There is not a dry eye among them. Even Tecna, who is often criticized for her insensitivity and cold objectivity, is sitting in the circle with tears spilling over her eyes and down her cheeks.

"We had no idea," says Bloom softly, breaking the silence. "To lose one's mother in such a gruesome and cruel manner must be unbearable. I know, because, my true birth parents have been taken away from me and are now lost in one of the magical dimensions. I never got to know them at all but a part of me aches and longs for their return."

"My father and mother are separated and I live with my father," whispers Stella. "I rarely get to see her and, if it were not for the support of my sisters gathered here, the intervening times between visits would be lonely and miserable for me. It is not like losing your mother forever but I can understand somewhat what you are going through. It is not that I don't love my father dearly. I do. But there are some things you can only share with your mother and some pains and heart-sorrows that only she can cure."

"I have lost my mother too," admits Musa between sobs of her own. "She died of a rare disease when I was still yet a child. It tore my father to bits and left a deep wound inside of me. Yet, I still feel her speaking to me when I sing the songs that both she and my father composed and I dedicate all my compositions to her."

"I don't know what made me spill this all out to you," sobs Ishandra. "I have been holding this inside of me for so long. Except for maybe Alysoun, no one at Cloud Tower knows about this. I have not even told as much to Darcy or Leffi when she was still Stormy. But something inside of me said that you would understand and I just had to let it all out."

"This is often the only way emotional healing can start to take place," says Layla with a break of sadness in her voice. "You let it all out because you had to. Isha, you never have to feel that you need to face this all alone! You are a sister to us all now and we all share each other's heart-break and support each other," and all the Faeries nod their heads in agreement.

"Ishandra," says Flora in a voice like a sweet zephyr, "there must surely have been good times. You must have some fond memories of your mother and of the time you lived in Taranto. Tell us something of those."

"My mother and I were very close," says Ishandra, sitting up and drying her eyes, "not only because we were Witches but also because my father, an English sea captain, was at sea much of the time and we only had each other. When my father, Andrew, would come home, it would be like being introduced to a stranger. It must have been difficult for him too seeing his daughter growing up in only spurts and jumps and missing out on many of the magical moments most parents share while their children grow up. It was awkward and sad at times for me knowing I had to keep secret from him my true nature and not being able to share with him all my triumphs while growing up as a Witch."

Ishandra pauses once again trying to keep reign of her emotions. It is Layla this time who takes Ishandra into her arms to rock her and to whisper, "Let it out, Isha. Don't feel ashamed to cry. Let your tears wash all of this out of your system."

Ishandra makes a deep sigh and begins again, "It was my mother who taught me the rudiments of witchcraft and who was teaching me the healing arts and magic. She also taught me how to fly and how to bend light. It was shortly after learning how to bend light that I then began to see Faeries."

"Faeries?" blurt Bloom, Stella and Tecna. "But didn't Miss Faragonda and Ms Grizelda tell us that there were no longer magical creatures on Terra?" asks Stella.

"Well, I can vouch for at least three Faeries living in Taranto during those times although only one of them, Muta, was to become my lifelong companion," confirms Ishandra. "It is she who has melded with me to create the new creature that I am today. But a few months after becoming friends, Muta came to our home one night beaten and bleeding. I am sure it was her two companions and maybe others too who beat her and kicked her out of their shelter because she had bonded with me and because I am a Witch."

"Muta?" says Musa, wide-eyed. "Then it was you who chased Stella and me that time in Magix. I remember being so ticked off with you for cornering me and for calling me Muta all that time."

"Yes, it was I," nods Ishandra. "You look so much like Muta that you could be twin sisters. I guess that I got carried away when I thought I was to be reunited with my friend and couldn't understand why it was you were fleeing from me and couldn't hear me when I tried to communicate with you telepathically. It broke my heart to find that you were not Muta and that you would not even consider being my friend."

"I'm sorry, Ishandra," mumbles Musa, shamefaced. "I guess that a great many bad things could have been avoided had I been a bit more tolerant and agreeable to having you as a friend."

"That may have been the case," replies Ishandra, "but it wasn't and we ended up battling each other in a senseless fight for possession of the Dragon Fire. My research at Cloud Tower revealed to me my lineage and that I was a direct descendant of Ardala who was the last Witch Guardian of the Dragon Fire. It was being Ardala's currently living descendant that indicated to me that I was rightfully the next Witch Guardian of the Dragon Fire. When you showed up with your splinter of the Dragon Fire, Bloom, I felt that you had cheated me out of what I thought to be mine. That is really what the fighting was all about. I just wanted from you what I thought you had stolen from me. It was not until I was taken into the confidence of my guardian, the Werecat, that I came to realized that there are four kinds of Dragon Fire. It is Bloom's destiny to be the Faerie Guardian of the Red Fire Dragon Fire... and mine is to be Witch Guardian of the White Ice Dragon Fire. The powers that I received shortly after being transported to the Planet of Alfea by Alysoun and her rescue party are not from dead planets, as I once believed, but from the Witches' sliver of White Ice Dragon Fire that the Great Dragon Herself gave me. I am so ashamed now for all the evil and strife I caused during the fighting. Can you ever forgive me, Bloom?"

"Certainly, I can," replies Bloom to Ishandra with a gentle look in her eyes. "You, as Flora and Layla have so often told me, are not the evil Icy against whom I fought in those days but a new creature. How can I blame you for the misdeeds done by an evil Witch who is now dead and gone? Besides, if it were not for your training, I would never have realized all the powers and potentials of my splinter of the Dragon Fire. And furthermore, it is simply not in our nature, as Faeries, to hang onto grudges forever. So, yes, Ishandra, I can forgive you if you feel that that is what you are still in need of."

"I think we can all show forgiveness," says Layla with emphasis – her gaze fixed on Stella and Musa.


	12. Our Homes Bloom 1

**Chapter 12 : Our Homes… So Far Away: Bloom, Part 1**

Flora, seeking to break the tension, turns to Bloom and asks, "You grew up on Terra too, Bloom, did you not?"

"Yes, I did," responds Bloom, "but as you know, I was born on Sparx and sent to Terra by my sister Daphne."

"Why is your home world sometimes called Sparx and other times Domino," asks Musa.

"Sparx is the name of the planet," explains Bloom, "while Domino is the name of the main land mass where the royal palace existed and where I was borne. The literal translation of 'Domino' into High Alfean is 'our home'. People from off-world confused the two names and that is why some people call my home world Sparx and others call it Domino."

"Interesting," says Musa. "Please, continue."

"My birthday is approximately March 30, 1988," says Bloom. It may be out by a few months but that is the Terran date my adoptive father, Mike, found me."

"But that makes Ishandra one hundred and ninety years older than you, Bloom," gasps Stella. "Why aren't you a withered up old lady, Ishandra?"

"It has something to do with time dilation and the method by which I was transported to Alfea," replies Ishandra. "It is all relativity and quantum physics. I had someone at Cloud Tower explain it to me once but by the time she had finished I was so baffled that all I could do is stand there and say, 'Huh?'."

Stella turns to Tecna for confirmation. "It is true, Stella," says Tecna, "and, even though I am predisposed towards understanding higher mathematics, it took several reiterations before I came to grasp it."

"Let's just say that it is magic," says Bloom with a mischievous smile at Stella.

"What I would like to know, Bloom," asks Ishandra, "is how you managed to live undetected on Terra for all these years. Certainly someone must have suspected that you were not human. Didn't your adoptive parents suspect something?"

"Well, duuuuh!, Ishandra," laughs Stella. "Bloom was discovered in a ball of fire in the midst of a burning building by her adoptive father and from nowhere he hears a voice saying to him 'Her name is Bloom. Take her and protect her'. If you lived on a planet populated by mostly NMBs, what would have been your first clue that there was something a tad different about Bloom."

"Don't get snarkey with me, Stella, or I'll transform you into a toad," growls Ishandra. "I was not privy to how Bloom arrived on Terra so I had to ask."

"I'll put a big, ugly wart on the end of your witchy nose before you can transform me into a toad," rebuffs Stella, jokingly, but still nearly provoking Ishandra into a have-at-her.

"Peace out, Sisters!" pleas Flora to the two. "Let's not ruin the atmosphere of friendship we have established here."

"Sorry, Flora, Ishandra," says Stella and Ishandra nods her head in acknowledgement.

"Well, that was the first hint," laughs Bloom, "but the second was when my adoptive mother, Vanessa, nearly had the end of her finger taken off by my 'buzz saw' when she stuck it into my mouth to have a look."

"Both Faeries and Humans give live birth to their offspring and their mothers suckle them for a time," explains Tecna to Ishandra. "Faeries are borne with complete sets of teeth all ready erupted and ready to eat what an adult can eat. But a Faerie mother still has to suckle her baby for a few weeks because it is from her that an infant Faerie gets the establishing inoculation of micro-organisms that a Faerie needs in her first stomach to break down and digest food. If an infant does not get that initial infusion of these micro-organisms then she can eat until she bursts but still die of starvation."


	13. Our Homes Bloom 2

**Chapter 13 : Our Homes… So Far Away: Bloom, Part 2**

"If that was a surprise for Vanessa," says Ishandra, "then it must have been a real shock for her to learn that you have two stomachs and six hearts and also blood that is as thick as molasses."

"True," says Bloom, "and they never did figure out what the six knobs down my back are for either. The only thing they figured out for sure is that I am 'different'."

"I guess Humans do not have flight muscles down their backs," grins Stella.

"No they don't," says Bloom. "And, luckily for me, when Mike and Vanessa sought professional advice, they went first to Dr. Silverman who is a long standing friend of the family. After Mike told him how I had arrived in a fireball, Dr. Silverman did a thorough examination of me and took several x-rays of my internals which confirmed that I was not of terrestrial origin. The doctor could have made himself a famous and, possibly, a rich man by publishing his findings but he also realized that the whole medical profession and also the military would want to get their hands on me to dissect me. So, he elected to keep it all a secret and urged Mike and Vanessa to keep silent about how exactly I arrived on Terra. And, in doing so, not only did he save me from the clutches of the white-coats and the military but also he avoided painting a big blip on the Witch radar which was probably still searching for me."

"Yikes! That's scary!" exclaims Layla.

"I can believe it," says Ishandra. "In my day, they would often cleave open the chest of a girl or woman who was suspected of being a Witch while she was still alive to determine whether she had a heart and whether her heart was red or black. It was all because of a stupid belief that Witches had no hearts or that they were black. And, sadly, not many lived through that ordeal."

"The biggest problem for my adoptive parents during the first few weeks," continues Bloom, "was what to feed me. Even if they knew that I was a Faerie, there was no way for them to just run down to the corner store and buy a dozen bottles of Gerber's Baby Faerie Food," and the others laugh. "So, they ended up trying first what they thought would be the safest food which was Pablum, a very bland plant-based baby food, mixed with water which I downed with no problem but then Vanessa tried Pablum mixed with skimmed milk which I threw up all over her two seconds after the first few spoonfuls. She next tried mixing Pablum and soy milk which I could never seem to get enough of. Next was baby formula which I refused to have anything to do with and ditto for baby stews. She soon realized that I could not tolerate anything containing lactose, animal meat or animal by-products."

"Poor Vanessa," says Layla. "You were certainly a problem child for her."

"I just can't imagine anyone wanting to eat animal flesh at all," says Tecna, squirming at the very thought of it. "It all seems so gross and unnatural."

"It depends upon what fuels your motor," says Ishandra. "I can't survive without consuming a good portion of animal protein."

"Eeeww, Ishandra!" exclaim all the Faeries in unison.

"It is as I once explained it to Tecna," says Ishandra. "One of the reasons why Witches and Faeries can coexist on the same planet is because we occupy different niches in the ecosystem."

"The real shocker," recounts Bloom, "happened a few months later when Vanessa had to take me with her to her flower shop. She sat me down on a counter without paying close enough attention to the plant beside me which was a popular ornamental shrub having leaves and stems that are highly toxic if not deadly to Humans and small animals."

"Oh, no!" exclaim Ishandra and the Faeries.

"Well," continues Bloom, "Vanessa turns her back on me for just a few seconds and when she turns around here I am holding only the roots and a stub of the main stem in my hand – the rest of the shrub having been processed by my 'buzz saw and grinder' and swallowed. Vanessa, then realizing what I had just eaten, went into a panic and called Mike and Dr. Silverman. No one knew what to do. All three thought I was going to die. Vanessa was in tears. Dr. Silverman and my adoptive parents spent and all-night vigil expecting me to pass away during the night. But in the morning, I awoke from a restful night's sleep and started demanding to be fed and for all to play with me all happy and contented as you could please."

"We are all glad you survived to be with us, Bloom," says Flora in a voice sounding like Mother Alfea Herself. "You were still very lucky. There are a goodly number of plants that can kill us but usually our instincts tell us which are which. I can empathize with Vanessa and Mike and how distraught and helpless they must have felt when they thought they were about to lose you."


	14. Our Homes Bloom 3

**Chapter 14 : Our Homes… So Far Away: Bloom, Part 3**

"So tell me, Bloom," asks Stella coyly. "Did you have any boyfriends on Terra?" and the others crowd closely around Bloom to catch every word.

"Well duuuh, Stella!" says Bloom. "What do you think?" and the others regard Stella and begin to giggle and Ishandra smirks. "I am a pretty young woman with flaming red hair, big blue eyes, a cute pixie-face and a curvaceous body that even by Terran standards just won't quit. I almost had to beat off would be boyfriends and suitors with a stick. The rumour circulating around Gardenia was that while Mitzi had the bling, Bloom had the boys. I never had to worry about having a date for any major event. For the most part, I had a good time."

"I can imagine that that inborn Faerie charm had a lot to do with it," grins Stella.

"It may be, Stella," replies Bloom, "but sometimes it seemed that I could not go down the street without hearing a chorus of wolf whistles and cries of 'Come to me, Pixie-Face!', '¡ Arriba la pelirosa !', '¡ Hola mamacita ! ' and '¡ Humana humana !'."

"Whoa-ho, Bloom! You go girl!" exclaims Musa. "You don't need a translation to understand that!"

"Well," replies Bloom, "it is flattering in one way but annoying in others. In many ways I don't want all this constant attention. It is also one of the reasons for the constant animosity between Mitzi and me. Mitzi is so jealous of me because I'm popular with the guys. The sad thing is that Mitzi could have all the boyfriends she wants. She is beautiful, well-to-do, intelligent and well educated but she is so paranoid in believing that the only reason why any boy wants to date her is to get close to her money and family fortune. There are some who are like that but also plenty who would love her even if she were dirt poor and out on the streets. It is her nasty 'tude that drives them away."

"Got that right!" says Layla angrily. "She is so snobbish and rude and I was boiling inside over the way she treated you, Bloom, and that nasty stunt she tried to pull on us during that Halloween party."

"I don't know how you can call her intelligent," says Musa. "It seems to me that most of the time her mind wanders and she just goes along for the ride."

"Yeah," says Stella, "and she has no clue on how to dress with style and how to use perfume in moderation. One could smell her four blocks away with a cold in her nose."

"While I can agree with you, Stella," replies Bloom, "I have to warn you, Musa, that it is very dangerous to underestimate Mitzi. Mitzi is not even half as dumb as she likes to let on. She is as sly and deceptive as a fox. Take that Halloween prank she tried to pull on us. Can you imagine the time and planning and organization it took to pull it off? And I think that even you, Tec, can appreciate all those clever gadgets she used to do such things as break all those mirrors on cue. She had us really going for quite a while before the smell of her perfume gave her away. So, as they say on Terra: She's as crazy as a fox and someone with method in her madness."

"That sounds like Darcy's stock and trade," says Ishandra.

"I'm glad that you're the one saying that first, Ishandra," says Bloom, "but those were my exact thoughts."

"I get the 'method in her madness' part," says Musa, "but what is a fox and the bit about being as crazy as one?"

Tecna makes a quick-draw for her palm computer and is soon chanting, "Fox: any of various small, wild Terran canines (especially genera_ Vulpes _or_ Urocyon_) with bushy tails and, commonly, reddish-brown or gray fur: the fox is conventionally thought of as sly and crafty." "Unfortunately," says Tecna with a note of disappointment, "there is no illustration for this entry, I'm afraid."

"Do any of you know Vulpa of Cloud Tower?" asks Ishandra.

"Sure, I know her," replies Flora. "She has a gift similar to mine that allows her to see aurae and thereby tell whether or not someone is both physically and mentally healthy."

"Oh, yes, I remember her," says Musa. "She's a sweetheart even if she is a Witch but she seems to be perpetually up-tight and nervous to boot."

"Vulpa is a Fox-morph Witch," explains Ishandra. "Try to imagine her on all fours with paws in front instead of hand-paws and only one third her size. Then you have a good idea of what a Terran fox looks like."

"That sounds really cute," says Flora. "But I can't imagine Vulpa being sly and deceptive."

"I agree," says Ishandra, "but the fox that Vulpa's people evolved from is an opportunistic hunter-scavenger with many tricks in its hunting repertoire. On Terra, it is often hunted for its fur or for sport and just as often trapped to be exterminated as vermin because it destroys livestock and is the chief vector of a fatal disease called rabies."


	15. Our Homes Bloom 4

**Chapter 15 : Our Homes… So Far Away: Bloom, Part 4**

"That's really cruel," protests Flora. "Couldn't the humans just talk to them and come to some sort of reasonable agreement and even help them to combat that disease?"

"Maybe we'll give you that job," replies Bloom, "if we ever get to visit Terra again. You would be the only one there who can speak Fox. We might even get Vulpa to speak on their behalf but a Terran speaking Fox humanoid would freak out the Humans to no end. And I dread to think what they would do to her if they ever found out that she was also a Witch."

"That brings us to something I have been meaning to ask you, Bloom," says Ishandra. "Do you speak Italian?"

"No, I don't," replies Bloom, "but I have studied Spanish since I was in grade school and would have been taking my third year of Spanish language and literature in high school had I not ended up here on Alfea. I can read Italian and understand it if people speak it slowly enough to me but there is no way that I can speak it."

Bloom notes the confused looks of her companions and goes on to explain. "The Terran city, Gardenia, is in a state called California which was first settled by peoples from a country called Spain which is near Italy where Ishandra was born and grew up. Spanish and Italian stem from the same parent language which was called Latin. They are as close as what High Alfean is to Alfean Standard. Although the official language of that state is now English, much of the population there speaks Spanish as its first language so it is useful to know it. In fact, I had a lot of help learning it from Abran to Virgilio. They hold something special for a blue-eyed redhead who speaks Spanish."

"Ah, you are a popular girl in many languages," laughs Musa.

"I have had much the same experience," smiles Ishandra, "but it was after I learned to speak, read and write Arabic. Our port did a lot of trade with ships from North Africa which is mostly Arabic speaking. I learned Arabic to help out my father do trade with these people, but still, the captains and men from these countries were so surprised to find a beautiful young girl in Italy who spoke their language as if born knowing it that they could hardly believe it. Also, most of the common sailors were illiterate so I was able to make a small fortune for myself by writing and reading letters for them for which they were willing to pay me in gold and silver coins. Even today Arabic is still my favourite second language."

« Yes, I have heard you singing in it, » sends Layla to Ishandra. « It's uncanny how similar it is to the language we speak on Tides. Sometimes I think I can actually understand something of what you are singing. »


	16. Our Homes Tecna

**Chapter 16 : Our Homes… So Far Away: Tecna**

"Tecna, is it not true that your home world also has two names?" asks Flora.

"Yes but not for the same reason that Bloom's home world is known as both Sparks and Domino," replies Tecna.

"Oh? How is that?" asks Flora.

"Binos is one of the longest inhabited planets in our universe," explains Tecna seriously. "The first inhabitants called themselves Binars so it was very logical to call the planet Binos. The Binars thought themselves to be very clever, inventive and industrious which they were although somewhat arrogant about it. After two hundred millennia of research and discovery they believed that they had reached the pinnacle of achievement and to celebrate this they renamed the whole planet Zenith. The millennia went by and the Binars devoted themselves to pleasure and sumptuous living but that soon became boring and the whole of the planet started going into decline. Then one fine day, an aggressive race of space farers from the planet Elektra found the planet Binos now called Zenith and decided they wanted it for themselves. The Binars scoffed at them saying, 'We are better than these guys so we can defeat them easily,' and so they went to war against the Electrolytes."

"And they beat the Electrolytes?" asks Stella.

"No, it was the Binars who ended up being soundly defeated. But then something really strange happened," says Tecna, drawing everyone's interest into her account. "When the Electrolytes started to take over the planet, they delved into the Binars' history and found that there was much about them to admire and the Binars delving into the Electrolytes' history found in them a kindred spirit. So the two groups began to intermarry and produce offspring and within a few centuries there was not one purebred left of either species but the two together had evolved into a new species that was even better than the two founding species. This new species decided to revert to the name Binos in honour of the first founding race and also as a reminder never again to become as arrogant and conceited as the first Binars and to remember that no matter how much they thought they knew there was always more to learn and new goals to achieve. And that's how my home world came to have two names."

"That's fascinating, Tecna!" say Ishandra and the Faeries.

"You liked that?" asks Tecna seriously.

"Yes!" chimes everyone.

"Well, I'm glad you did," says Tecna pokerfaced, "because I just made up the whole thing."

Everyone looks at Tecna who is still maintaining an absolutely straight face until realizing what had just happened, Ishandra says just as coolly, "Ladies, I believe that we have been had," then everyone including Tecna breaks into laughter.

"Seriously, Tecna," asks Bloom, "how did your home world come to have two names?"

"I don't know," Tecna tells her. "There may have been a reason but it is now lost in the mists of time."

"Well, I'm glad to see you're developing a sense of humour, Sweetie," says Flora to Tecna.

"Well, it is either that," quips Stella, grinning, "or the poor dawling has developed a serious Tecna-cal glitch."

"Stella!" exclaim all the others but then realizing the humour of it all break into unrestrained laughter until their sides ache and tears are streaming down their cheeks.


	17. A Conversation In Starlight

**Chapter 17 : A Conversation in Starlight**

Ishandra realizes that the second sun is slipping below the horizon. "I think it is a little too late to be riding back to either my palace or to Alfea College," she tells the Faeries. "Why don't we sleep under the stars tonight?"f

"I could probably produce a guiding light to take us back," replies Stella, "but I like the idea of sleeping out."

"I'll erect a barrier to shield us from any prowling animals and from any cold night breezes," says Tecna, "but first we need to bring back the horses to within the confines of this clearing.

Five of the Faeries go to lead the horses back to within the clearing and retrieve the bedrolls which are secured behind the saddles and lay them out on the ground. Meanwhile, Bloom is helping Ishandra gather up twigs and such to stuff between the logs Ishandra has set up and then sets it to burning with a short blast of Dragon Fire. Ishandra erects a cold shield about the remaining food to preserve it.

"Is everyone within the clearing and accounted for?" asks Tecna.

We are all here and accounted for," Layla replies to Tecna.

Tecna raises her arms and with a magical movement of her fingers incants, "Night roof!" and a clear dome manifests itself protecting the entire enclosure. "There," she announces, "that should be proof against everything including wild animals."

"It won't harm or kill them?" asks Flora, concerned.

"No," Tecna assures Flora, "the worst is whatever touches the barrier will get knocked out and awake with a splitting headache after a few hours."

Before retiring, each of the Faeries and Ishandra bid their horses a good night and offer each of them an apple. Soon afterwards all are in their bedrolls and all but Bloom and Ishandra who are bedded down beside each other are asleep.

The three golden moons of the Alfean sky, which are also known as The Three Sisters, are shining down upon the group and about them blaze a myriad of stars.

"They sure are beautiful," whispers Bloom to Ishandra.

"They most certainly are," agrees Ishandra.

"The strange thing is that, despite their beauty, I do not think of them as my stars," says Bloom. "I don't even know what stars shone above Sparx when it was still a life supporting planet or what the names are of the constellations in the Sparxian sky or if they had names at all. I regard the one silver moon of Terra and her stars to be mine. I miss looking up into the sky and seeing the Big and Little Dipper, Polaris, Ursus Major, Orion, Cassiopeia and the other constellations."

"I know how you feel," replies Ishandra to Bloom. "I too miss the moon and stars of Terra. I mentioned that my father was an English seaman, did I not? He taught me the names of all the constellations of the Northern Hemisphere and how to navigate by them, tell time and the changing of the seasons. I remember a time, though, when I thought that he was going to skin me alive."

"Oh?" asks Bloom. "What did you do?"

"My father had an astrolabe that belonged to his great, great grandfather that was regarded as a family heirloom. One night, after explaining some of the basics to me, he handed it to me to try using it as he had demonstrated. However, he let go of it before I was ready and, although I managed to grab hold of it, it was unexpectantly heavy and fell to the ground and broke.

"Oh, no!" exclaims Bloom. "What did he do then?"

"Realizing what I had done," says Ishandra, "I burst into tears. My father, however, did not punish me as I had expected and admitted that he had to share the blame because he had let go too soon. He inspected the astrolabe and told me not to cry and that the damage done to it was not beyond repair. A few weeks afterwards, he presented me with my own astrolabe which was scaled down and made of lighter wood and metal than his. When he was at home, we would spend nights together out under the sky using our astrolabes, studying star maps and just chatting. Often times we would be out so long that we were witnesses to the break of day and the rising sun. I miss those times with my father and my home."

Ishandra props herself on her elbow and looks down at Bloom. "You are truly beautiful under the moonlights, _ma biche_," she tells her.

"Ishandra!" exclaims Bloom, giggling and blushing. "Thank you and to tell the truth, I have always thought of you as being beautiful as well. You had your moments even when we were not friends when you would relax and not be frowning, snarling or giving us your evil Witch smile when I would find you truly striking. You even had moments while you were training me when I could see your true beauty. Although, I could never understand your amusement when you would tell me, 'Oh, stop your wailing, you _bean-sidhe_!' every time I complained about how hard your training was. I took it to mean 'cry baby' in Witchspeak."

"Well, that is one interpretation, I guess," says Ishandra, grinning slyly.

"But I think that you were at your most beautiful today when you were crying," Bloom tells Ishandra.

"What?" says Ishandra, pursing her lips and wrinkling her delicate nose. "You think I am most beautiful when my eyes are red from crying and my nose is running?"

"No, no, no!" exclaims Bloom, sitting up and raising her arms in defence. "What I am trying to say is that you were beautiful because for once you were truly vulnerable trusting us not to see your crying and sorrow as a sign of weakness and trusting us to know of something that is so close to your heart. I hope to see more of that Ishandra."

"Maybe you will,_ ma biche_," replies Ishandra softly while kissing Bloom's forehead. "Maybe you will."


	18. A Changing of the Guard, Part 1

**Chapter 18 : A Changing of the Guard, Part 1**

The rising of the Huntress, the first sun of Alfea, sees Ishandra and the Faeries up and doing their morning ritual of exercises and stretches. The Faeries have spread their wings and are shaking from them the accumulation of faerie dust which has caked on them overnight which falls to the ground in a cloud of glittering gold and silver specks. The Huntress, although a yellow sun, is of a slightly different composition than Sol of Terra. Under her light, all colours take on a special brilliance which Faerie wings seem to be especially designed to capture and reflect in all their glory.

While the Huntress is the central sun of the Alfean solar system around which orbits the Planet of Alfea, the dwarf sun, called the Hart, with its bluish light orbits the Planet of Alfea in the same manner as her three moons. The Hart is said to be the reincarnation of a wicked wizard who during his conquest for domination of the universe caused the destruction of countless planets and the deaths of countless billions of sentient beings. The Goddess finally sent her greatest huntress angel after him. The huntress was successful in her mission and brought the soul of this wicked wizard to stand in judgement before the Goddess. "Because of your great evil," the Goddess tells him, "you shall be punished thus: You shall be recreated as a small star that orbits the Planet of Alfea. My huntress shall stand in centre awaiting your immergence from behind Alfea at which time she will hunt you. When the two of you are in conjunction, she will kill you. But, because of your evil, you shall be brought back to life each day until you have suffered a death for each life you have taken." And thus were created the Huntress and the Hart.

The Faeries and Ishandra roll up their bedrolls and secure them once more behind the saddles of their horses. Most of the dishes and containers have been picked up and stored into the saddlebags except for the blanket and the few items which will serve to break their fast.

Everyone is seated in a circle enjoying her breakfast when Ishandra says, "I have an announcement to make to you."

"This must be it," whispers Stella to Musa behind her hand.

"Don't say I didn't tell you," whispers back Musa in the same manner.

"I'm taking over the leadership of the Winx Club," says Ishandra flatly.

"What?" sputters Bloom nearly choking on her fruit juice and dropping her glass. "Tell me you're joking!" she exclaims while the others look on in shock.

"No, I'm not joking about this. I'm dead serious," replies Ishandra.

"Even if I decide to relinquish my position as leader," asks Bloom, "what makes you think that you have the right to take over?"

"Yeah," says Stella angrily. "If anyone takes over the leadership of the Winx Club she should be a Faerie – perhaps Layla." And some of the others chime in in agreement.

"I disagree," says Flora. "We say that Ishandra is now a Sister to us all, therefore, she should have an equal opportunity to be our leader no matter if she is a Witch and not a Faerie… and have we forgotten so soon that, despite that Ishandra continues to call herself a Witch and not a Faerie, she is really neither because she has become a meld of both elements to become something that is unique?"

"Point taken, Flora," says Bloom, "but I am asking you again, Ishandra, what makes you think that_ you _have the right to take over as leader?"

"I have word from a source who is next to the Goddess Herself," says Ishandra, "that a great battle is looming over the horizon for which I am the only one among you who has the qualifications required to prepare you for it before it breaks out."

"So, whom shall we be facing?" asks Bloom. "Is Lord Darkar going to somehow make a reappearance or perhaps we have to do battle against the Three Ancestresses?"

"No, we shall be fighting against someone closer to home: Darcy," states Ishandra.

"But I thought that Darcy was secured and locked away in Cloud Tower," puts in Layla. « Where are you going with this, Isha? » she asks telepathically.


	19. A Changing of the Guard, Part 2

**Chapter 19 : A Changing of the Guard, Part 2**

"Now that Darcy knows that there is a way to escape her prison at Cloud Tower," replies Ishandra aloud to Layla's question, "she is not going to stay in captivity much longer. She'll not rest until she finds a way to lie, cheat, connive or deceive her way out of there and then she'll be out for revenge on all of us."

The Faeries look quietly but seriously on as Ishandra addresses each of them. "Bloom, I recognize that you are the best fighter among the Faeries, but, you and I are the only healers in our group. One of us has to stay behind the lines in case the other is wounded or killed. Layla, you are also a good fighter but you have had little experience fighting against Witches and especially one with Darcy's mind-set. However, I am going to make you my second in command. Tecna, I'm inclined to keep you behind the lines too as our technical support. Stella, Flora, Musa, we will need your fighting skills as well but Musa, I would be watching my back from now on because, when Darcy breaks out, you are the first she's going to come after."

"Yes, I know," says Musa. "Tecna told me about your visit to Alfea College and the discussion you had about Darcy, Riven and me. Forgive me for saying it, but that Witch must be out of her gourd."

"No offence taken," replies Ishandra to Musa, "and this time I have to agree with you. But Darcy is determined to have Riven for herself."

"And for this she is willing to wage a war?" asks Musa in disbelief.

"Are you not willing to wage war for the same reason?" asks Ishandra. "On Terra, it is said that a woman will kill to keep the one she loves or has desires for and I can tell you that that goes double if she happens to be a Witch. Darcy would wage war and kill without regret or remorse to keep possession of the one she wants."

"This makes no sense at all," says Flora with a note of distress in her voice. "Can't someone or all of us try to reason with Darcy and explain to her that a relationship between Riven and her is fruitless?"

"It is ironic that you should express it that way seeing that Darcy so wants to have children by Riven," replies the Mistress of the White Ice Dragon Fire to the empathic Faerie of Nature. "If you want to try, then go for it but trying to reason with Darcy now I fear is also fruitless."

"Seeing that a battle seems to be inevitable," states Tecna, "Ishandra's proposal makes good sense. But I want to know what your contribution to the Winx Club as leader will be, Ishandra."

"None of you know what Darcy's mind-set is truly like and the real extent of her powers as I do," says Ishandra, "because even during the Alfea Wars I was restraining her to some degree. You will have to be trained on how to resist and counter her Gloomix and mind-disrupting magic and I am the only one here who can do that so that is my contribution to the cause."

Tecna nods showing her agreement with Ishandra's statement and turns her gaze to Bloom. There is a long pause after which Bloom finally says, "Very well, Ishandra, I shall relinquish my position as leader of the Winx Club to you so long as you understand that this is only until the danger posed by Darcy is over. Then, I will retake leadership. Can you agree to this?"

"I can agree to this," says Ishandra to Bloom.

"Then receive the sisterly kiss of acceptance and agreement," says Bloom kissing Ishandra's temple which Ishandra returns upon hers.

The ride back to Ishandra's palace is slow, quiet and full of deep thought. The Faeries stay only long enough to stable and tend to the horses and then as a group they fly back to Alfea College. Upon their return, they find Ms Grizelda waiting for them.

"I wish you six had told me where you went off to – especially you, Bloom," says Grizelda but not in her usual cross manner.

"Come on, Ms G.," protests Stella. "It's the weekend and we are allowed that time away."

"I have an important matter to discuss with Miss Faragonda," says Bloom. "I need to talk to her right away."

"That won't be possible, Bloom," says Grizelda softly and sadly. "Miss Faragonda returned to the dust last night."

"She's dead?" cries Stella bursting into tears with the others and regretting sorely her flippant remark. Stella turns to embrace Bloom and they cry on each other's shoulders as the other Faeries circle around in a group hug to grieve.

"I think she knew it was her time for she urgently wanted to see you, Bloom, to ask something of you," says Grizelda tearfully.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there," chokes Bloom. "Do you know what she wanted to ask of me?"

"Yes," says Grizelda, "she wanted to ask if you would take over as the new Headmistress of Alfea College."

"I would have told her 'yes'," sobs Bloom.

"Then, in Miss Faragonda's name, I am authorized to bestow upon you, Bloom, the kiss of acceptance as the new Headmistress of Alfea College," replies Grizelda, gently kissing Bloom's temple.


	20. Seven Days of Mourning

**Chapter 20 : Seven Days of Mourning**

Bloom has hardly time to realize that she is now the Acting Headmistress of Alfea College before all the duties and obligations of the position are heaped upon her young shoulders. Dressed in her dark-blue mourning attire, she feels that she should indeed be mourning the passing of Miss Faragonda but she is kept so busy flying here and there arranging this, checking that, delegating tasks to this one, that one and all in between that her feet barely get to touch ground for more than fifteen minutes at a time. By the time she gets back to her room the first day, she is so exhausted that she falls asleep the moment her head hits the pillow even before she can get out of her clothes and into her pyjamas.

Ms Grizelda and all the Winx Club girls come to aid Bloom with her many tasks. All are touched by the passing of Miss Faragonda but Flora is doubly impacted when she recalls the death of her fiancé, Helia, who was only recently slain along with all the other members of a peace envoy when their ship was ambushed and destroyed whilst en route to a rendezvous point there to assist in negotiating a peace treaty between two warring planets in his home solar system. "At least he died doing what he wanted," thinks Flora tearfully but even that is cold comfort and now the one that she loved as a mother while on Alfea has been claimed by the passage of time.

One strange thing that Bloom never knew about Faeriekind before her arrival to Alfea is that, when a Faerie closes her eyes for the final time, enzymes are released that quickly decompose her body so within a few hours all that remains of her is a chalky white residue like dust. The moment the old Headmistress died, her body was quickly transferred along with the sheets into a glass sarcophagus to lie in state until the final service in seven days time.

And they come from far and wide to pay their last respects to Miss Faragonda. There are many of her former students, Miss Griffin and several of the Witches who fought side by side with her and the Faeries during the Alfea College War against the Trix. Also come King Sky and Queen Diaspro of Eraklyon (whom Bloom carefully avoids) and with them Brandon the High Sheriff of Eraklyon now Stella's husband. From Red Fountain come Timmy now officially engaged to Tecna, Saladin, Codatorta, and Riven who remains at Red Fountain as an instructor. King Radius and Queen Luna of Solaria, Stella's parents, call a truce in their on-going feud to come to Alfea to pay their respects. Sadly, Bloom's parents, King Oritel and Queen Miriam of Sparx, remain lost in one of the magical dimensions where Baltor banished them but, by special accommodation at Bloom's request, her adoptive parents, Mike and Vanessa, are permitted to pass through the magical barrier of Alfea to attend Miss Faragonda's funeral and the inauguration of Bloom as the new Headmistress of Alfea College. Ishandra comes to pay her respects late at night and is quietly brought by Bloom to the chamber where Miss Faragonda's remains are at rest. "She was a great lady," says Ishandra sadly and respectfully, "even if for a time we were enemies. She proved herself several times over to be a strong and wise leader. May she now find her peace with the Goddess."

By the sixth night ships are coming in from the farthest reaches of the Alfean universe bringing with them peoples from planets and star systems that Bloom had not even heard of until that week. The accommodations at Magix are filled to overflowing and all the parks around the perimeter of Alfea College are filled end to end with ships that are also serving as temporary living quarters. And during the night they continue to come until the Huntress, the golden sun of Alfea, comes over the horizon to begin her arc across the Alfean sky.

Early on the seventh day, Miss Faragonda's sarcophagus is loaded upon an open bier that is drawn by a single land dragon draped with a dark-blue banner bearing the crest of Alfea College and a dark-blue mask over its face. A slow procession makes its way from Alfea College to a bluff overlooking Lake Roccaluce. At that point, the sarcophagus is removed from the bier and set upon a raised platform around which stand the High Priestess of Alfea and several lesser priestesses. A flight of nine dragons in three V-shaped formations from out of Red Fountain glide over the assembly bugling a lament as they pass. The priestesses follow with a polyphonic dirge during which all stand in quiet contemplation. This is followed by eulogies pronounced by Ms Grizelda, Bloom and the other members of the Winx Club, Miss Griffin and several other dignitaries from near and far. Then Bloom is called to stand alone on the platform before the High Priestess who, after saying a short and quiet prayer over her, announces aloud to the crowd.

"Bloom, I hereby pronounce you the new Headmistress of Alfea College," while draping a ribbon with a crystal over her head. The High Priestess next hands Bloom a staff with feathers glued into the top. "Headmistress," intones the High Priestess, "I now command you to carry out your first duty."

Bloom makes her way reverently to the sarcophagus and shoves the end of the staff into a slot designed for it. The sarcophagus opens and its floor rises. Bloom opens the sheets and sets free the dust of Miss Faragonda's body, which is caught up by the wind and sent floating over Lake Roccaluce in a glittering gold and silver cloud. A procession, lead by Stella, ascends the platform to join Bloom. All grab the edge of the sheets and shake them to release any of the remaining dust. Then as the others fold the sheets, Bloom removes the staff from its slot and uses it to sweep away all the dust that remains on the floor of the sarcophagus. The task completed, all walk slowly to a brazier which has been lit by one of the priestesses and together they place the sheets and also the feathered staff into the flames. The crowd waits in silence until all of the sheets and the staff are completely consumed by the flames. Then the High Priestess turns to the crowd and pronounces to all, "Depart now in peace and with the blessings of the Goddess."

"So let it be!" chants the crowd in many languages and then disperses – most following the bier headed back to Alfea College and the feast awaiting them within its court.


	21. The StarCrossed

**Chapter 21 : The Star-Crossed**

On a precipice jutting from Cloud Tower which serves as both a look-out and a landing platform a young Faë with hair shaped like a purple flame stands by his lava bike while an angry young Witch with flowing brown and amber streaked hair paces back and forth in front of him.

"Why didn't you tell me?" screams Darcy at Riven, turning and facing him. "I released you from all the illusion spells I put upon you so we could be open and honest with each other and yet you never made one mention of this."

"I was not sure if this was really the case," replies Riven, angered by Darcy's outburst but trying his best to be calm. "It was not until I asked Ishandra and had it confirmed by Tecna that I knew it to be true."

"Coming from Tecna, I know it must be the truth because, even if she is a pixie, she is hard-wired to never knowingly tell a lie," heaves Darcy, "but Icy would lie to you as would Musa, Miss Griffin and M'Trika just to make you abandon me and to deprive me of what little true happiness I have."

"How many times must I tell you that Tecna is a Faerie and not a Pixie?" says Riven, his temper beginning to boil. "And who is this M'Trika and why would she want us separated from each other?"

"M'Trika is a Panther-Morph Witch and the head of the Cat-Witch guards who maintain security and discipline at Cloud Tower," explains Darcy in calmer tones, "and she is someone who would flay us both alive if she ever caught the two of us together. And why she wants us apart is so you'll go back to Musa which she believes will calm the tensions between Witches and Faeries."

"I doubt it," says Riven to Darcy who has again turned her back to him. "The hatred, fear and mistrust of each other go too far back and run much too deeply to be changed even if I should go back to Musa. But you also know my situation on Daingneach."

"Yes," says Darcy, not bothering to turn around. "His Royal Highness must find a wife for himself who can bear for him an heir before year's end or lose his right to ascend to the Throne of Daingneach. But I want to be that woman who is your wife and your Queen and to bear you an heir but now even Nature herself is against me," she sobs.

"Maybe there is another way to work it out," says Riven softly, while taking Darcy gently by her shoulders. "I was adopted by the King of Daingneach and made a prince of the kingdom. Maybe he would allow us to marry and to adopt a child as my heir."

"Oh! That is so just like a man!" hisses Darcy, turning on her heels and shoving him. "You just don't get it, do you?! That might be well and good for you and your high-and-mighty father but not for me! An adopted child will not be one that came from our lovemaking, that grew within me and for whom I suffer the pain and know the joy of bringing into the world. And no matter what child we might adopt, it will never be ours nor will I ever love it."

Darcy walks a few paces from Riven, her chest heaving, then suddenly turns running to Riven and throwing her arms about him. "I must be crazy!" she exclaims. "I should hate you and cast on you such a hex that you will be driven screaming mad for the rest of your life." Then looking tearfully into Riven's face she whispers, "But I still love you. Do you love me, Riven? Do you care_ anything _about me?"

"Of course I love you," replies Riven. "I have always loved you from afar. You needn't have cast a spell on me during the Race for the Roses. You had only to ask and I would have come to you. But I am still upset with you for taking me and then dumping me."

"I had no choice as I told you before," whispers Darcy sadly. "I would have never willingly abandoned you, my love, but Icy forced me to it because she did not want me distracted or spilling her plans to you. And what about Musa?"

"I love her too," replies Riven.

"You can't have both of us, Riven," says Darcy. "You must decide on one of us or the other. Now you had better go before M'Trika discovers that the woman sleeping in my quarters is only an illusion and she comes hunting for me and finds you here too."

Riven kisses and then releases Darcy, mounts his lava bike and heads off towards Red Fountain. "Yes," thinks Darcy as she watches him vanish, "go think on it, Riven, and decide but if you decide on Musa then I swear that she shall not live to be your wife or bear your children. I will kill her before surrendering you to her."


	22. Faragonda! Faragonda! Faragonda!

**Chapter 22 : Faragonda! Faragonda! Faragonda!**

Forty days have passed since the ceremony during which all said their final farewells to Miss Faragonda, the late Headmistress of Alfea College. The atmosphere about Alfea College is still sombre and many, including Bloom and the other Winx Club girls, continue to wear their mourning attire of dark-blue.

On this particular day, Bloom is flying leisurely down the hallway towards a conference room when she hears a call of "Headmistress, Headmistress!" in thickly accented High Alfean from someone running quickly to her on padded feet from behind.

Bloom hovers to allow the tiny Margay Cat-Witch named Rosemary to catch up to her. She is a member of a Trix of Margay Cat-Witches made up of her and her two sisters Parsley and Sage. They are part of an exchange program that allows students from Cloud Tower to attend classes at Alfea College for a year and an equal number of students from Alfea College to study for a year at Cloud Tower.

"We will never stop the feuding among Faeries and Witches," Bloom recalls Flora saying, "until we learn to be open and honest with each other. The settling of the feud over the Dragon Fire has created the necessary momentum for each side to realize that the bickering, feuding and warring among us has to be dealt with and resolved in a peaceful and equitable manner. I say that we should be the first by offering the Witches an olive branch in the form of a student exchange program before the momentum is lost and both sides slide back into old patterns."

"I think that is an excellent idea, Flora," Bloom tells her, "and, because it is your idea, I think you should be the one in charge of managing it. Write me up an outline on how many Witches we can allow to come to Alfea at a time, a curriculum and a list of accommodations we will need to make for them."

"Thank you, Headmistress," replies Flora to Bloom, addressing her by her official title, "I will get started on it right away and I'll have it on your desk within two days," and flies off obviously overjoyed to be given this assignment without having to present to Bloom a long-winded and detailed verbal justification for the program.

"Good!" thinks Bloom to herself. "This is indeed a worthwhile endeavour and it will keep Flora busy for most of the day and her mind off her constant mourning over the loss of both her fiancé, Helia, and Miss Faragonda whom she loved like a mother. I'm glad she came up with this idea."

"Headmistress?" asks a cattish voice bringing Bloom back to the Margay Cat-Witch and the reality at hand. "You have to come quickly to see this beautiful bird that has perched outside your office window," says Rosemary, trying hard not to lick her chops and salivate.

Bloom is about to refuse and then decides to exercise her prerogative as headmistress to be late for meetings to follow Rosemary back to her office. During her first forty days in office, Bloom has rearranged the old headmistress' office to her liking – adding her own artefacts and removing some which were just too painful a reminder of Miss Faragonda and her own feelings of loss.

"There!" exclaims Rosemary, approaching the window and pointing to the highest branches. Bloom looks into the high branches where a beautiful blue-feathered bird with a white crest sings in melodious strains holding her mesmerized by its song and Rosemary involuntarily licking her chops and drooling over her chin.

"I could catch it and pluck it," offers Rosemary cheerfully, "then we could truss it and roast it for our supper."

"Don't you dare!" scolds Bloom. "Besides, I'm not interested in eating birds. I'm a vegetarian," she adds, while Rosemary looks at her as if thinking that there must be something slightly crackers about someone who would pass up on a nice warm gobbet of _chair saignante _for a plateful of leaves, flower petals and boiled roots and tubers ("Yuck!"). "And I don't want to catch you or your sisters chasing or molesting it, do you hear?" Bloom admonishes this certain Margay Cat-Witch who is wearing the sheepish expression of one caught with her paws already in the fishbowl.

The bird continues to sing its bitter-sweet song and then, coming down to the lower branches in front of the office windows, it locks eyes with Bloom and cries, "Faragonda! Faragonda! Faragonda!" and then takes off soaring high as if in flight beyond the Alfean skies leaving Bloom looking on teary-eyed.

"Aww!" sulks Rosemary, her ears canted sideways and her tail and whiskers drooping. "There goes my supper!"


	23. Guy Talk

**Chapter 23 : Guy Talk**

Riven enjoys riding dragon-back through the Alfean skies. It is the closest he has to his female counterparts, the Faeries, to flying through the skies on brilliantly coloured wings. He often feels envious of them for their unique gift of wings but riding the back of such a powerful beast also makes him feel powerful. Today, he sought his favourite spot far from Red Fountain and the rest of the civilized world there to be where he could be alone to pace, to talk to himself and even to scream to the heavens if he so felt. But loneliness is a poor companion so this time he brought along Timmy – a lanky and geeky fellow with a voice that perfectly matches his lanky and geeky looks – his only remaining friend out of the group he used to hang out with at Red Fountain whom he knows he can confide in secure in the knowledge that any secrets shared would remain secret.

"I'm really not the one you should be asking for advice on women," says Timmy to Riven, while staring at his toes and shuffling his feet. "Heck, I am lucky to have scored with Tecna. It is only because we have so many interests in common that we have been drawn to each other and, so far, remain together as a couple. I'm really no Prince Charming nor am I a ladies' man. You should maybe make contact with Sky and ask his advice."

"Sky?" hisses Riven angrily. "After what he did to Bloom he'd be the last I would ever seek out for advice."

"Well, he was in a tough situation like the one you find yourself in," replies Timmy.

"What tough situation?" snarls Riven nastily. "He knew fair well that he was betrothed and bound by princely honour to marry Princess Diaspro yet he allowed Bloom to fall deeply in love with him and he encouraged her to do so with what he knew to be false promises of marriage only to leave her cold and broken-hearted. Okay, I admit to being a hothead and allowing my temper to cloud my judgement at times but I have never set out to deliberately hurt someone the way he did so let's have no more talk of Sky."

"As you wish," sighs Timmy, once again silent for a long moment but obviously crunching Riven's situation in his head. Finally he looks up at Riven and asks, "Whom between them do you feel you truly love?"

"Darcy," replies Riven with barely a moment of hesitation. "She, at least, understands me and I can be myself about her and not fear that she will always be trying to change me as Musa does."

"And you have already approached her with the suggestion of adoption?" asks Timmy for confirmation.

"Yes, and all I got for my effort is a long and angry hissy-fit. I tell you, Timmy, all Darcy seems to be interested in is bringing forth a child of her own flesh and it has crossed my mind several times that that is the only reason she keeps me around despite her profession of love for me," sighs Riven, his forehead wrinkled with frustration.

"Then, in my honest opinion," replies Timmy, "an agreement that will be acceptable to you, Darcy and your step-father is something that will never be, so, let it go. And what about Musa? Do you have any real feelings for her?"

"I love her too," admits Riven. "Marrying her would be the easy way out but I seriously doubt that she would last for long on Daingneach. I fear she would soon die there."

"I think you're selling Musa way short, Riven," says Timmy. "My observations of her convince me that she's way tougher than you believe. After all, look at all she's faced: The Trix, Lord Darker and that Baltor guy and some other guy whose name I can't be sure of but I think is Riven or something like that. Maybe it's those on Daingneach who should be in fear of her," he grins and both he and Riven laugh.

Again there is a long pause as Timmy seems to be lost in thought once more. "Can you go through the terms of the decree again for me," he asks Riven.

"It's simple enough," replies Riven then quotes the whole decree verbatim by hearts.

"There's a way out of this so you may marry Musa," says Timmy.

"How so?" asks Riven, his expression hopeful.

"The decree says that you have to be married within the year to a woman who can give you an heir. Now, unless there is another decree or agreement that binds you to living on Daingneach, all you are obliged to do is go there for the brief time required to have the wedding ceremony and then you can go with her and live anywhere you two want," explains Timmy. "Just call it an extremely long honeymoon. Maybe you can go to her home in the Harmonic Nebula and there find out if you are man enough to face the music," he grins and ducks as Riven scowls at him and takes a mock swing at his jaw.

"But when I ascend to the throne," observes Riven, "I cannot be an absentee monarch. I will have to spend the majority of my time on Daingneach and I would like to have my queen by my side which means that Musa will also have to live on Daingneach."

"True," says Timmy, "but then you'll be King of Daingneach and the one with the power to make any changes and accommodations for Musa that you and she deem are necessary."

"Timmy, you're a genius!" exclaims Riven, wrapping a brotherly arm about his shoulders and mussing his hair with his knuckles.

"Hey, I do my best," replies Timmy.

"Now, I have to break the news to Darcy and try to let her down as gently as I can," says Riven, "and then deal with Alessandra as well."

"By the Tree!" exclaims Timmy. "Another Witch? What is with you and your penchant for wicked women?"

"Alessandra is not wicked, Timmy," says Riven somewhat gruffly. "She has changed a lot to which the Goddess gives testimony by her blessings upon her of Charmix and Enchantix powers. She has come a long way since she was known as 'Loser Lucy' by the Trix. And don't ever breathe a word about her new identity to anyone because Darcy would kill her if she ever discovers who Alessandra really is. As far as the Trix know, Lucy graduated a year ago and went back to her home world."

"Mum's the word," promises Timmy, "but what is the relationship between you and Alessandra?"

"There is really none beyond friendship on my part but I fear that she has strong feelings for me and aspires to be my wife," replies Riven.

"Deeper and deeper," says Timmy. "Next you will be telling me that you are involved with Stormy too."

"What makes you think that?" asks Riven surprised.

"Come on, Riven," says Timmy. "I may be a techno-geek but I'm not blind or stupid. I've noticed how you have been admiring Stormy's keel-side and gawking at her legs when you think no one sees."

"It's really that obvious?" asks Riven and Timmy nods in affirmation.

"Maybe you should thank your lucky stars," continues Timmy, "that you didn't fall for her rather than for Darcy. At least Darcy can see reason."

"Yes, I guess I should be," says Riven, "or else I would be Riven crisps by now."


	24. The Shattered Dream

**Chapter 24 : The Shattered Dream**

Darcy sits in the common lounge at Cloud Tower trying to get interested in a book all the while smiling on the outside but her heart broken and crying on the inside.

At least Riven did his best to let her down gently, Darcy reflects, and there was still that note of love and sincere regret and sadness in his voice. But what should she have expected? It is only natural for him to return to his own kind and to Musa who welcomed him back with open arms. Yes, Musa loves him, she knows, and will be for him the wife and the mother of his child and heir he wants and needs but it did not stop Darcy from boiling inside with rage and jealousy. True, Darcy has her youth, her beauty, her sultry and bewitching wiles so she need only to spend one night at the Hex Café to snag for herself a hansom, young Warlock. But hansom, young Warlocks are foot-loose and fancy free and to marry one would mean that she would be constantly uprooted to follow him wherever his wanderlust takes him and lose everything related to family, home and clan. The possibility of having children would come much, much later and then she would never be able to rely on him remaining with her or helping her raise their child once "his duty" had been fulfilled.

Darcy is still very much the country girl who finds herself lost in the big city and confused by its ways and ethics. Her home planet, New Witch Haven, is an agricultural planet out in the boondocks of the Alfean universe. The vast majority of the planet's population is made up of the descendants of the Gaelic speaking peoples from Terra who fled there during a wave of pogroms that swept over Northern France and the United Kingdom targeting these peoples as Witches whether they were or not.

The first years were tough on the new settlers mostly because they had come so ill prepared. The migration to New Witch Haven had taken place at the twelfth hour in haste and out of sheer desperation to escape from their persecutors. Most came with only a few farming tools and the clothes on their backs. Their new home also proved to have many things that looked familiar but were not. As a result, many were fooled into eating a tuber that looked so much like the beloved and staple potato yet turned out to be so deadly toxic that the merest nibble killed within seconds. Yet, the settlers adjusted and flourished.

Darcy closes her eyes as she dreamily recalls the long and happy days spent with Stormy, her parents and her extended family in the fields helping to harvest the saffron-like flowers that were exported as a dyestuff and also for its delicate flavour that was unlike the saffron found on Terra or elsewhere in the universe. Often her hands and mouth would remain stained orange for weeks after picking saffron but those who cultivated it throughout the year and year after year had absorbed so much of the flowers' pigment that their skin remained orange from almost the day they were born until the day they died.

Darcy again closes her eyes and once again dreams of home on New Witch Haven, a simple but cozy cottage where she and her sister, Stormy, were born and grew up, a place filled with happy memories of her family, of the stables that housed her zebra – one of the few beasts brought from Terra that found its niche on New Witch Haven – named Dewin. She misses her little pet shove-over called Ialach – a harmless six-legged native of New Witch Haven about the size of a lapdog but so covered with shaggy fur that it is hard to tell its front from its back until it begins walking but even then one could not be sure. The soft and affectionate creature had a habit of crawling into bed with her seeking the warmth of her body during the cold nights but often pressing so closely against her that she was constantly telling it to "Shove over!" so as not to be pushed off the other side of her bed. Most of all she missed her father, Marcus, and her mother, Blodwyn.

"I want back home!" sobs Darcy silently to herself. "I want out of Cloud Tower and away from Alfea. If I see Riven's face again it will be too soon and if I get my hands on that pixie, Musa, I am going to kill her for stealing from me my only bit of happiness." But she is a prisoner of Cloud Tower. But she has to graduate from Cloud Tower or face the wrath of her parents back home. But she has to explain to her parents how Stormy, whom she is supposed to be taking care of, is now reduced to the state of a woman-child.

Darcy is lost deep in thought when she is approached by a Witch with curly, golden hair, a comely face and large, blue eyes. "A penny for your thoughts?" she asks Darcy and, before she realizes it, Darcy has poured out all her heart's woes to this strange woman.

"All this grief over a man?" exclaims the stranger in disbelief. "Wise up, Sister. Men are good for one or maybe two things and then they are just useless and underfoot. Who needs that!" and Darcy laughs for she has heard almost the exact same words from Icy – and then it hits her how much she misses Icy and her sister, Stormy.


	25. Morgana 1

**Chapter 25 : Morgana, Part 1**

Darcy finds herself at a loss to answer that.

On New Witch Haven, family is everything and everything revolves around the endless cycle of birth, death and rebirth. Ever since she was a young girl, Darcy had it drummed into her head that her place will be by her husband's side and her duty will be to produce at least two offspring. By New Witch Haven standards, Darcy is well past the age when she should have fulfilled both obligations and is already considered to be an old maid and somewhat of an embarrassment to her family. It was because of this and because of Stormy's powers and her tempestuous and unruly personality, which made her a bad prospect in the view of any potential husband, that their Ma and Da finally allowed them to leave New Witch Haven to attend college at Cloud Tower on the Planet of Alfea.

Darcy feels a certain pride in being a senior student and an accountant at Cloud Tower for she is among the few women from New Witch Haven to have ever had a chance at a college education let alone anything beyond grammar school. Unlike Icy, who has been taught how to study from an early age, Darcy still has to work hard and struggle for every grade she gets despite the stories that she was doing it largely by riding upon Lucy's back. Stormy, on the other hand, was a lazy student only too willing to grab every cheat and deception that came her way to get good grades. Moreover, Stormy continually complained loudly and bitterly that the only reason why she was at Cloud Tower at all was so her parents could kick her out of the nest and that they harboured secret hopes that she would go on her merry way and never bother to return to New Witch Haven. So be it!

"It has always been that way on New Witch Haven," Darcy finally replies to the strange Witch.

"Oh, how quaint and rural," replies the blonde, blue-eyed woman. "They've really done a real brainwashing job on you, you poor thing. I would have expected a lot more independence and aggression from a member of The Trix."

"You seem to have me at a disadvantage," says Darcy. "You obviously know who I am but I have never seen you here before. Who are you?"

"My name is Morgana of Alfea," replies the strange woman, "because I am one of the very few Witches to have actually been born here on the Planet of Alfea."

"Nice to make your acquaintance, Morgana of Alfea," says Darcy as the two exchange kisses of greeting upon each other's temples.

"Now," says Morgana, "I thought that you would have realized by now that on Alfea it is every Witch for herself. Although both Witches and Faeries have an equal claim to the Planet of Alfea it is the Faeries who for now are running the show. You have lived too long on New Witch Haven and have forgotten or never learned that on almost every other planet in the universe Witches are a hunted and persecuted people. The only reason why Witches survive here is despite everything when push-comes-to-shove, we are the ones who as a group can stand our ground and shove back. The peace we are said to have made with the Faeries is an illusion. Witches and Faeries are and forever will be at war with each other. So if that Faë Riven is the one you want then take him. And… if that Faerie Musa gets in your way then squash her like a bug."


	26. Morgana 2

**Chapter 26 : Morgana, Part 2**

Within a few days, Morgana moves in with Darcy who finds her spacious apartment suddenly much too large, empty and lonely with both Icy and Stormy gone. Stormy's old room is still set up for a child so Morgana settles herself into Icy's vacated room and seems to be overjoyed to be occupying a place that once was hers.

During the weeks that follow, Darcy and Morgana become solid sharing each other's secrets, joys and woes. Morgana insists that Darcy reinstate her claim to Riven and to fight back to repossess what she believes is hers. This reignites Darcy's passion and she becomes more and more determined to exact revenge against a certain pixie named Musa for stealing her man and just as determined to let Musa feel the full fury of her wrath.

Darcy first has to set herself free which, so far, has been a futile effort for no matter how deep into the bowels of Cloud Tower or how high into its turrets and spires or to the east or the west she goes, she runs smack into a barrier that transports her back to her apartment or the Cloud Tower foyer. She realizes that the field must have some way to distinguish her from all the other students so she tries mimicking the appearance of every student in Cloud Tower including Icy and Stormy but again to no avail. Finally, she creates as many clones of herself as she can and together they throw themselves at the barrier all at once. Darcy feels the tingling of the barrier and opens her eyes expecting to be back in Cloud Tower but suddenly finds that she is outside the barrier. Suppressing her immediate joy she tries flying half way to Magix and back and finds she can do it without any interference or obstruction.

"Well," thinks Darcy, "this is well and good so far but maybe just a fluke. I need to be able to go to and from Cloud Tower at will for to stay outside the barrier will raise the alarm with both Miss Griffin and especially with M'Trika who would not hesitate to organize a pussycat posse to come searching for me, and… this time chances are too good that she will just kill me on the spot rather than drag me back to Cloud Tower."

Darcy flies to her balcony at Cloud Tower and, praying that she is not once more a prisoner, she tries again to go through the boundary and finds that she has passed the boundary point as if there was no boundary there at all and continues to fly half way to Magix and back to her balcony at Cloud Tower. She repeats the same process another five times and then allows herself a quiet moment of joy knowing that she is once again free and whatever it was that was keeping her a prisoner seems to have given up trying to keep her imprisoned any longer.

Once Darcy breaks free of her prison at Cloud Tower it does not take long for a confrontation to ensue. The Winx Club Faeries and Ishandra are flying to Magix as so too are Darcy and Morgana when the two groups nearly collide with each other.

"Well, Musa my dear, we meet again," purrs Darcy nastily but seductively. "I've come to collect what is mine."

"You mean Riven?" replies Musa, her face twisted into an angry snarl. "No way am I going to give him up to you now that he has come back to me and we are to be married. You have meddled in our lives for the last time, Darcy. If you want Riven then you will have to fight me for him!"

"Just the words I was hoping to hear," spits Darcy with the expression of one mulling over how many ways a Faerie can be dissected and prepared for the dinner table. "I plan to kick your pixie butt all the way back to the Harmonic Nebula and take Riven for myself."

Meanwhile, Bloom has a bewildered gaze fixed on Morgana. "Diaspro?" she enquires.

"No, not Diasbro her name is Morgana," replies Ishandra locking eyes with the blonde-haired, blue-eyed Witch. "You have your nerve showing your face back here, Morgana," she growls in Witchspeak.

"Newsflash for you, Icy," retorts Morgana also in Witchspeak. "I'm back and we have a score to settle and now that you are a traitor as well settling it is going to be doubly rewarding."

« I'm here guarding your back, Isha, » sends Layla telepathically to Ishandra.

Flora is watching Darcy and thinking almost sympathetically, "Ishandra's right. There is no way I can reason with Darcy in her present state and I don't like the vibes coming from this Witch Morgana at all," her gut feelings telling her that this one is not to be underestimated during a fire-fight.

"Enough talk!" shouts Morgana. "Have at them!" and from her hands she sends a ball of blue plasma hurtling into their midst.

Ishandra knows that she can move in time to avoid Morgana's attack but Layla is hovering staring into the oncoming plasma ball like an insect trapped in the glow of a lamplight. "Scatter!" she screams at the remaining Faeries and then tackles Layla seconds before the plasma ball flies over their heads and into the forest dissolving everything in its path as if nothing was there at all. Ishandra smacks Layla hard across the face and shakes her. « For the Goddess' sake snap out of it, Layla! » she urgently sends to her telepathically.

Meanwhile, the Faeries regroup and launch a counterattack. "Solar-Ivy-Lash!" scream Flora and Stella together, creating a thorny ribbon of solar fire that lashes over the Witches' heads causing them to duck fast.

"Illusion-Delusion-Brain-Twister!" yells Darcy, sending a spiralling vapour from her hands that hits the Faeries and Ishandra dead on. This time, Ishandra's training kicks in and both she and the Faeries are able to recover in a matter of seconds.

"Bass-Boom-Web-Blast!" scream Musa and Tecna together and a vibrating fishnet smashes into the Witches sending them hurtling through the sky but they too rally and come flying in for another have-at-them.

"Dragon Fire-Solar-Flair!" shout Bloom and Stella together, sending a red and yellow ball of fire hurtling towards the Witches that misses.

"Plasma-Scythe!" screams Morgana, sending a storm of blue razor-darts hurtling into the Faeries.

Ishandra is at a distance away from the main body of Faeries holding a semi-conscious Layla in her arms. She watches approvingly as Tecna counters Morgana's latest attack by creating a large Tecno-Shield and calling the rest of the Faeries to take shelter behind it. But then Ishandra realizes Tecna's mistake of using a transparent shield and yells to her in panic. "Opaque, Tecna, opaque!"

Flora realizes the danger to her comrades and yells, "Ivy-Vine-Wrap!" which covers the outside of Tecna's shield but when the scythe hits there is the sound of vines being flash-fried and set ablaze and Flora screams in agony and shrieks, "I'm on fire!" then slips into unconsciousness and begins to plummet from the sky.

"Flora!" cries Bloom as she dives to the rescue of her falling comrade.

By this time, Ishandra with a fully conscious Layla has rejoined the group. Black-Ice-Tecno-Shield," call Ishandra and Tecna together, forming an opaque shield that protects them but leaves them jarred.

Morgana, believing that she is now on a roll, raises her arms to launch another volley of plasma fire when Layla sees her chance for a clear shot, and, doing a jack-in-the-box manoeuvre, yells, Morphix-Manacles which traps Morgana's hands in sticky, binding glue and a follow-up shot from Layla binds both her legs in the same manner.

Morgana, realizing that she has been put out of action, decides to run for it before another Faerie attack does her in. Darcy, realizing that she has lost her support, decides likewise but Tecna and Musa give chase in the hopes of catching her in a Thatch weave so they can blast her from both sides and bring her down permanently. However, Darcy is a seasoned veteran in escaping from such an offensive and dives below the tree tops and into the thickest part of the forest knowing that the Faeries would not pursue her into there lest they tear their wings to shreds.

"Blast! She's gone!" snarls Musa angrily.

"I'm afraid she is," replies Tecna. "Let's get back to the others."

Tecna and Musa arrive back and find the others hovering but still dazed from the battle. Bloom is weeping openly and uncontrollably while holding an unconscious Flora in her arms. Everyone looks at Flora's hands that resemble two slabs of roasted meat and realize that this most likely finishes her career as a practitioner of magic.

"Let's get her home," says Layla who is the most stable among the Faeries. "Perhaps there is a way to at least ease her pain."


	27. The Faerie and the AvianWitch Healer

**Chapter 27 : The Faerie and the Avian-Witch Healer**

Ishandra and the Winx Club Faeries fly Flora back to Alfea College where they bring her immediately to the infirmary. Ishandra, Bloom and the Alfean healer examine Flora's burnt hands but because none of them has any experience in dealing with plasma burns the three of them find themselves at a loss. Bloom, goes to a comm and makes a desperate call to Marigold, Flora's home world, in the hope that someone there might be able to help. She is promised that someone would be on her way immediately. Bloom returns to the infirmary to inform the others that someone from Marigold is on her way and should arrive shortly.

Meanwhile, Ishandra is using the cold fire of the White Ice Dragons to cool the fever that is beginning to ravage Flora's body.

Flora's eyes are open but she is obviously in a state of delirium as her eyes are constantly moving as if tracking an unseen someone or something. "Please, Helia, please my beloved," begs Flora, "let me cross-over to you. Release me from this agony and let me come to you. No, Mother Faragonda, tell him he must let me come to him… he must!"

"Helia and Faragonda are gone, dearest," says Stella to Flora with tears streaming down her cheeks. "And we don't want you to cross-over."

"Maybe Helia and Miss Faragonda have left their corporal bodies," says Ishandra, "but they may not be gone. I know the critically ill and dying often believe that they are experiencing visitations from those who have already crossed-over. I have experienced the same myself."

Flora continues to rant and plea to be allowed to cross-over but whomever or whatever she is in communication with is winning the argument for her to stay and Flora slips once more into unconsciousness but her body appears more relaxed.

After a short time, there is the sound of a sleek, interstellar F.T.L. racer making a landing in the courtyard of Alfea College, a confusion of voices followed by the sound of rapidly beating wings and then a young woman turns the corner in a flat-out run towards the infirmary.

"Where is she?" demands the young woman whom Bloom recognises as Rose, Flora's little sister – now not so little.

"She is in here, Rose," Bloom tells her, "but did you bring a healer with you?"

"I am both a healer and her sister," states Rose.

Bloom leads Rose into the room where Flora is but when Rose sees who else is in the room with her hands on Flora's forehead she explodes in anger. "What is she doing here? Get away from her!" she screams, flying at Ishandra and shoving her into a table so she nearly falls on the floor.

Tecna is immediately between the two women keeping them apart and also protecting herself with a large tecno-shield. "Back off, Rose!" shouts Tecna uncharacteristically. "Ishandra is with us now and she has been working with us to help save Flora."

"I'm sure she has," retorts Rose, furious, "in just the same way she tried to help the Willow of Life."

Layla takes Rose by her shoulders and, spinning her around and looking straight into her face, tells her, "Rose, enough. We can settle old scores later but right now Flora desperately needs your help."

"Fine," says Rose, "but I want that Witch out of here and away from my sister."

"I'll go," says Ishandra, preparing to take her leave of them.

"You'll go nowhere, Ishandra," states Bloom with an angry look directed at Rose. "We may yet require your skills."

"I need to know what happened," says Rose, still looking peeved about Bloom's decision to have Ishandra remain, "in as much detail as you can give me."

Tecna, having been the closest to the action, recounts to Rose what transpired in the battle up to and including the moment Flora was hit by Morgana's plasma scythe.

"I don't understand," says Stella her voice near hysteria and a tearful gaze fixed upon Rose. "I have seen Flora use her ivy vines and seen them burned, frozen or otherwise destroyed but she always comes out of it unscathed. What happened this time?"

"This plasma scythe of Morgana's hit before Flora could detach," says Rose and the others look at each other confused.

"What do you mean?" Bloom asks Rose.

"When casting an ivy vine or suchlike," says Rose, "there is a critical moment when one must detach and for it to take an independent life of its own otherwise the caster suffers the same fate as it does. Flora did not have time to detach before Morgana's plasma scythe hit so she was burned along with her vines."

"She must have known!" cries Bloom as the others stand there looking shocked.

"Most likely she did," says Rose.

"She saw her comrades in danger," says Layla with a break in her voice, "and like a good and well-trained soldier, she sacrificed herself to save them."

"Flora?" weeps Bloom. "You did this to save us?"

"The reality is," says Rose, "is I have never seen such severe damage before. I can't save her hands… I doubt that anyone can."

"It is then clear enough," says the Alfean healer, "we amputate both of them" and Ishandra and Rose nod in agreement.

"No way!" shouts Bloom angrily. "She took all this risk to save us. Are we going to let her down now?"

"Bloom," says the Alfean healer, "we are doing this to save her life. If we don't the flesh of her hands will go putrid and cause blood poisoning which is a slow and horrible way to die. Do you want to see her suffer any more than she is?"

"I'm with Bloom on this," says Musa who, so far, has been keeping silent. "We just can't give up hope on her this way. There are four healers here. Surely there must be a way at least one of you can come up with to save Flora and her hands. Think hard everyone!"

Everyone is quiet for a long moment their foreheads wrinkled as in deep thought trying to come up with an alternate solution to Flora's situation. Suddenly, Ishandra breaks the silence. "I think I know someone at Cloud Tower who can help she announces to the Faeries," and then vanishes. She reappears ten minutes later and behind her stands a slender and graceful winged creature covered with feathers but with a hooked, slashing beak and taloned fingers and a piercing gaze that sets Rose to screaming and trying to escape but Layla grabs her and holds her fast.

The winged creature walks up to Rose and pricks her hand with one of her talons and Rose remains conscious but all fear seems to be drained from her. "Much better," states the creature. "Who is this little one? Is she the one who needs my help?"

"I'm sorry about this," says Bloom to Alysoun, the Avian-Witch healer. "Had I known that Ishandra was bringing you here, I would have prepared Rose to receive you."

"It's alright," chirps Alysoun. "Ishandra called to say that there was an emergency situation here but didn't tell me the who and what of it."

"It's Flora," explains Bloom to Alysoun, "her hands have been burned from a plasma attack."

"How long ago?" trills Alysoun.

"Going on four hours," replies Bloom.

"You should have called me sooner," states Alysoun, "plasma continues to do damage even after initial contact. It may already be too late. I will need several hand bowls, water, gauze and bandage," says Alysoun and Bloom is relieved to see that here is someone who seems to know what she is doing and taking action.

The Alfean healer goes quickly to get for Alysoun the materials she requires. Meanwhile, Alysoun is examining Flora's hands. "It is not as bad as I would have expected," says Alysoun and Rose looks at her curiously. "She has her Faerie immune system and regenerative powers to thank for this. For a Witch, this would have been game over."

"Then there is hope?" Bloom asks Alysoun.

"Too early to tell," replies Alysoun.

The Alfean healer is back with a small truck upon which are not only the items Alysoun had requested but several other items as well and Alysoun nods to her approvingly. Alysoun takes two of the larger bowls and fills them half full from the container of sterilized water. She then magics up a healer's bag from which she takes two packages and dumps the contents of each one per bowl. In one of the bowls she dumps a whole roll of gauze not bothering to unwind it and then sets the bowl aside.

"I will need your help with this, Bloom," Alysoun tells the Mistress of the Red Dragon Fire. "When I lift up her hands, I want you to slip this towel under them."

When the towel is in place, Alysoun lets down Flora's hands then turns to the bowl still on the table and pours a measure of the medicine from it into two hand bowls. "Follow my lead," she tells Bloom, handing her one of the hand bowls. "Be careful not to touch any of the burned parts of her hands. There is probably residual plasma which can burn you."

"What does this do?" Rose asks Alysoun as she and Bloom place Flora's hands into the solution.

"It neutralizes plasma," explains Alysoun, "and stops any further damage." Then looking around asks, "Who among you is the Faerie of Music?"

"I am," says Musa.

"Bloom, I know you are Red Dragon Fire and Ishandra you are White," says Alysoun. "What about you others?"

"Plants but not quite the same as Flora's," says Rose.

"Sun and moonlight," says Stella.

"Morphix," says Layla.

"Technology," says Tecna.

"Excellent," says Alysoun. "I may need all of your powers."

"Musa," says Alysoun, "I need you to produce a sound envelope from your palm," then gives her the specifics.

"What in Alfea is the good of that?" asks Musa. "That is so high that not even Faeries can hear it."

"I am well aware of that," replies Alysoun emphatically, "but can you do it? I could do it myself but I would end up fracturing Flora's bones which is not what we want."

"Yes," says Musa, and the air beneath her palm begins to shimmer as she generates the pulse.

"Now move your palm above Flora's hand in a slow circular motion."

Musa follows Alysoun's instructions and, to everyone's astonishment, the blackened flesh of Flora's hands begins to drop off exposing angry red and raw flesh beneath it. Alysoun turns Flora's hand so Musa can direct the sonic pulse on her palms exposing raw flesh as well then has Musa repeat the same on Flora's other hand."

"There is enough here to save her hands," announces Alysoun and the others look at her and each other in tearful relief. "Don't get your hopes up too high," continues Alysoun. "I can't guarantee that she will be able to use them ever again but at least they won't need to be amputated."

"I believe that I can create nanites which I can program to repair that kind of damage," says Tecna, "but it depends on how well the initial healing goes."

Alysoun retrieves the second bowl and pulls strips of gauze from it which are covered in a thick, jelly-like substance and wraps a measure of it around each digit and then around the whole of Flora's hands.

"What is in it?" asks Rose.

"Agar, aloes and wasp royal jelly among other things," replies Alysoun.

"Agar and aloes I understand," says Rose, "but wasp royal jelly?"

"It is disinfectant and will speed the regeneration of tissue," replies Alysoun. "My people have been using it for generations to treat all kinds of burns."

"Stella, Bloom, I want you to warm the jelly with your fire – to body temperature but no more," says Alysoun and both Faeries comply.

Alysoun then wraps a swath of dry bandage around each hand. "What about her temperature, Rose," she asks.

"Still somewhat elevated," replies Rose.

"Ishandra, take care of it," orders Alysoun but when Rose sees Ishandra about to put her hands to Flora's forehead she again raises her voice in protest.

"Look, Rose," says Layla, barely suppressing her anger. "In case you missed it, Alysoun is also a Witch – a Witch who not only has saved your sister's hands but maybe also her life. I think you should now show respect and gratitude where it is due and red faced, Rose nods at Ishandra to continue.

"I need some way to keep her from scratching at herself or trying to remove the bandage. Perhaps we need to tie her arms down," chirps Alysoun.

"I can help," says Layla, casting her magic onto Flora's hands creating a blue mitten around each. "It breathes but there is no way she can remove them until I remove them myself.

"That is all I can do for the moment," says Alysoun. "I shall be in about midday tomorrow to check on her. Someone will have to stay with her all night."

"Thank you, Alysoun," say all the Faeries.

"Thank you, Alysoun," says Rose. "I, I, I'm sorry," and her voice breaks as she begins to weep.

"It's understandable, little one," replies Alysoun and then vanishes.

"I'll take first watch," volunteers Tecna, "seeing that I need the least amount of sleep. Bloom, I will come get you in six hours."

"Okay," orders Bloom, "everyone to bed. Rose, you may use Flora's bed," and they all depart.

Tecna brings up a chair near Flora's bed and sits down. Then alone and in the silence of the room she places her hand upon Flora's forehead and allows herself to weep for her friend.


	28. Lasers, Mirrors and Nanites

**Chapter 28 : Lasers, Mirrors and Nanites**

Over the next few months, Alysoun continues to visit Alfea College to minister to Flora and, because she is a sociable sort at heart, she spends extra hours with Rose, Bloom and Ishandra whenever she can and all learn from her many things they never knew they never knew.

Flora never lacks for visitors or friends to keep her company while she convalesces. Some of the plants from her dorm are brought into her room because she tells Bloom that she misses them and they seem to comfort her some. Some bring her potted plants that in her presence seem to burst into gorgeous flower just for her.

The day finally comes when Flora no longer requires her hands bound in bandage and gauze nor does she require Layla's protective Morphix mittens. The raw and angry flesh of her hands has healed to a smooth, ivory-white and outwardly, it appears that her hands have made a complete recovery. The hopes for a complete recovery are, however, dashed after Alysoun does some dexterity tests and finds that Flora cannot move the thumb and fingers of her right hand at all and there is only a marginal response from her thumb and little finger of her left hand but it is not even enough to hold a pencil. These findings throw Flora into a deep melancholy because she realizes that, without her hands being fully functional, her ability to cast and control magic is reduced to nothing at all and without that ability she cannot take proper care of her "babies".

Tecna announces to all that it is now her turn to keep her promise to Flora. She studies in minute detail the sonic images that Alysoun and Musa supply her and listens intently as Alysoun, Bloom, Ishandra and Rose explain to her what is not functioning in Flora's hands and what needs to be repaired and rebuilt. Then both Tecna and her fiancé, Timmy from Red Fountain, labour for long hours both day and night to create and program a host of microscopic robots called nanites that would course through Flora's hands building cybernetic equivalents to the nerves and tendons that were lost to Morgana's plasma scythe. Meanwhile, under Tecna's and Alysoun's supervision, Bloom uses the fine point of the Dragon Fire to burn away all the useless nerves and tendons in Flora's hands and prepare channels through which the nanite robots can course to do their tasks.

One night while this is going on, Ishandra receives a visit from a tall, slender and comely, young Faerie who introduces herself to Ishandra as Alessandra. "I want to take Flora's place in the fray against Darcy and Morgana," says Alessandra sober-faced and without preamble.

"You are volunteering to fight in a battle that might see you hurt or killed," replies Ishandra. "What's in it for you?"

"Flora saved my life at one time," Alessandra tells Ishandra who looks at her questioningly. "When I came to Alfea College, I was suffering from a disease that was preventing me from keeping down food and sapping all my energy and vitality so I was like the walking dead," explains Alessandra. "Flora used her biological skills to find a cure that saved my life so I now have a life debt to Flora."

"So, you are saying that you now have a blood-feud with Morgana," says Ishandra.

"Exactly," replies Alessandra. "She has hurt Flora so she now has to tangle with me… and I have a score to settle with Darcy as well."

"Darcy too?" Ishandra questions in her mind. "I don't recall Darcy having a quarrel with any Faeries other than Musa and the Winx."

"What are your powers?" asks Ishandra of Alessandra.

"Silver and jewels," replies Alessandra, spreading her Enchantix wings the blue-black colour of the midnight skies which are decorated with witchy-looking silver scrolling and jewels along their edges.

Ishandra is at a loss over what in all of Alfea is the good of such powers in a firefight. Then she notices Alessandra's Charmix which is a combination of a Witch's spiked mace that is encrusted with Faerie jewels and gets an uneasy feeling in her stomach. "That is a very un-charming Charmix for a Faerie," she thinks. "A mace is a power symbol and so are certain jewels. A combination of both is highly aggressive and could be very powerful indeed. Well, who am I to stand in the way of her blood-feud with Morgana? The enemy of my enemy is my friend – so it is said."

A few days later, Alessandra is assisting Musa, Layla and Ishandra inspect the force field that protects Alfea College for possible weak points when Darcy and Morgana show up for the daily session of goading them with taunts and jeers. They put up with them until Morgana notices Alessandra and sneers, "What's up with this weakling, string bean pixie in black? Is she going to come out from behind the barrier to play with us or is she too afraid that I will fix her the same way I fixed your precious Flora?" and both she and Darcy laugh nastily.

It is rare for anyone to be seriously hurt in a firefight between Faeries and Witches. Confrontations are usually just loud saber-rattling, taunts and jeers. When there is a power attack, it is more to intimidate than to cause actual harm. But Morgana's last jeering remark is too much for Alessandra and she bullets across the barrier straight for Morgana with the definite intention of grabbing Morgana's swan neck and throttling it until she stops breathing. Morgana sees Alessandra coming for her and does an aerial back paddle and screams, "Blue-Plasma-Mace!"

"Silver-Deflector!" counters Alessandra and before her forms a large silver, concave shield upon which Morgana's plasma ball hits and is deflected away. "Laser-Lance!" yells Alessandra and from the jewels along her wings multiple strands of red light combine to produce a multifaceted cone which from its apex streaks a concentrated red light lance which pierces Morgana's shoulder just under her collarbone and before her ribcage and goes clean through her back. Morgana screams in agony, appears to lose consciousness and drops like a stone from the skies. A follow-up shot from Alessandra nearly creases the top of Darcy's skull setting her hair ablaze.

Morgana recovers before hitting the ground and is soon beside Darcy. "Make yourselves scarce!" shouts Alessandra at the two Witches, "for I will not take such careful aim next time!" Morgana, who is in excruciating pain, does not require any further convincing and beats a hasty retreat. Darcy, finding herself once again alone against three Alfea Faeries and one royally ticked Witch, decides that it is also in her best interest to do likewise. Musa chases after Darcy hoping to give her the sonic pummelling of her life but Darcy makes a beeline for the protection of the forest bringing Musa's pursuit to an abrupt halt. "Yes, Darcy," screams Musa into the forest. "Run away you coward. But remember that I'm still the better woman and you shall never take repossession of Riven!"

When Alessandra and Musa rejoin the others, Ishandra praises Alessandra and then reprimands her. "You cannot just go off half-cocked into a battle like that," she growls at Alessandra. "We work as a unit and there is a chain of command. Your little sortie broke that unity and left us weakened and vulnerable."

"Maybe so," replies Alessandra, "but Morgana's going to think twice about attacking us again and this will be the last time Darcy ever calls me 'Loser Lucy'," and the Faeries gasp.

"Lucy?" says Ishandra, her jaw dropping. "But… but… but!"

"Yes, the same Lucy you and your sisters called 'Loser Lucy' but now also changed," replies Alessandra, spreading her Enchantix wings. I now call myself Alessandra. I know that you were once Icy but you have also changed and you are now truly Ishandra. So let's continue to call ourselves Alessandra and Ishandra in recognition that we are now new entities and wipe the slate clean," and then approaches an astonished Ishandra, kisses her lightly on each temple and softly whispers, "My Sister."

"My Sister," whispers Ishandra to Alessandra, kissing her temples and feeling a great burden of guilt lifted from her shoulders.

Bloom meets Ishandra, Layla, Musa and Alessandra as they land in the courtyard. "Come with me," she tells them. "Tecna is about to inject the nanites she and Timmy have created into Flora's hands. I think that they would like us all to be there to give them support and support to Flora as well."

Bloom and the four arrive at Flora's room in the infirmary to find all the others there including Alysoun, Rose and Timmy. "Let's get started," says Tecna handing a large, liquid-filled syringe to Alysoun.

"Okay, Flora," says Alysoun. "I will try to make this as quick and painless as possible. You are going to feel some pressure but try to keep still," and then she injects half of the syringe into each of Flora's wrists. "Now we wait."

The next minutes seem to crawl by as everyone waits for a sign that the nanites have begun their work. After about twelve minutes and the sixth time of asking Flora if she senses anything and being told 'No', Tecna turns to Timmy with a look of frustration and asks, "She should be feeling something by now, shouldn't she?"

"You would expect so," replies Timmy, also looking frustrated.

More minutes go by without a report of any change from Flora and Tecna's expression begins to mutate from frustration to disappointment as so do the expressions of everyone else. "Don't feel badly, Sweetie, says Flora to Tecna. "I know you tried your best… Ouch!"

"What's the matter?" asks everyone with great concern.

"It's my hands," cries Flora, "they are starting to tingle."

"Where?" asks Tecna excitedly.

"All over!" exclaims Flora.

"Yes!" Tecna almost shouts while making the close-fisted sign of victory. "The nanites have begun their work. We did it, Timmy!"

"No," replies Timmy as Tecna wraps her arms about his waist, "you did it all yourself. I just helped some when you needed it."

"Oh, you are too modest, Timmy," says Tecna as she leans her head against his chest. "You did a lot more than just assist me," and everyone gives up a cheer of joy.


	29. The New Witch

**Chapter 29 : The New Witch**

"That was a lot more than 'just a little setback'," screams Morgana angrily at Darcy. "We were both lucky to escape from there alive!" and raises her arms in exasperation then winces as a shock of pain travels from her shoulder down to her hand from the wound that she had forgotten in her fury.

"Yes, I guess you are right," replies Darcy, cringing and putting her hand to her hair remembering how close it came to it being set on fire from Alessandra's second flash of laser light.

"Who would have guessed that that pixie in black would have such power and would be so ready to use it?" says Morgana and Darcy nods in agreement. "We need another Witch to join us or our trix is incomplete and we are too weak to stand against Icy, The Winx and their allies."

"I agree," says Darcy, "but perhaps we need a break from all this. Perhaps we should go somewhere to rest and heal… somewhere where there are no stupid pixies or anything else with magic to bother us."

It is several weeks later and late evening getting near the witching hour. Darcy and Morgana are strolling down the nearly deserted streets of Gardenia. Darcy is in a casual mood while Morgana is in her usual irritable mood.

"When do we get off this lame-o planet?" growls Morgana.

"Soon enough, Morgana," Darcy assures her. "But first of all we need to regenerate our powers, allow your shoulder to heal, and then we still need to find a Witch to complete our trix."

"I hate this planet!" rages Morgana. "You said that we would go somewhere to relax not somewhere that brings back bad memories!"

"Yeah, yeah," says Darcy, "I've heard enough about your great, great grandmother, Morgana the Faerie to last me a century or more. Let it drop, will you?"

"It's Morgana le Fay," retorts Morgana hotly. "Do you want to make something of it?" and waves a plasma lit fist under Darcy's nose.

"Morgana! Get-a-grip!" drones Darcy. "You're starting to glow and we don't want to draw attention to ourselves among all these non-magical beings."

Suddenly, as if to negate her very words, both she and Morgana are hit by a wave of negative energy and a tirade of angry words. Surprised and curious, the two Witches scurry off to find its source.

Just a little ways off, a dark-haired young woman wearing a fashionable dress sits astride an electric scooter furiously jabbing at the starter button and banging her frustration out on the handle bars all the while muttering to herself. With each blow to the handle bars a ring of negative energy radiates from the centre of her fist. Darcy and Morgana look at each other baffled.

"What seems to be the problem?" inquires Darcy as they approach the young woman.

"My scooter won't start. Isn't it obvious?" replies the young woman huffily.

"Do you know why it won't start?" asks Darcy trying to sound sympathetic to the young woman's plight.

"The metre says that my battery's dead but it was fully charged just before I left. It could not have run down so quickly!" explains the woman frustrated.

"What is a 'battery'?" asks Darcy uncertain of the new word.

For the first time the young woman stops her rant long enough to really notice the exotic-looking brunette who has been talking to her, her slightly strange accent and her fashionable but definitely non-Gardenian style clothing and also her companion with brilliant blue eyes and golden hair standing behind her.

"You've got to be kidding me, right?" asks the woman. "Did you two just drop down from the moon?"

"Actually, quite a bit beyond your moon," quips Darcy.

"First, I am almost late for the dance because some idiot car driver is speeding and not looking where he's going. I have to do a desperate swerve just to avoid him. I never thought I could move so fast! I just got a jolt of energy from nowhere. Then I get here and find my date's stood me up for some redhead. I wouldn't have been so angry if she had been a blonde or a brunette but a redhead really ticks me off. He knows how I feel about redheads...."

"Do you think she has any power or is this just a fluke?" asks Morgana of Darcy in Witchspeak which to an outsider sounds like alley cats going at each other tooth and claw.

"Let's try and find out," replies Darcy in the same language and then to the young woman says, "Maybe we can help you."

"Have you just the battery I need hidden somewhere?" snaps the woman annoyed.

"No," replies Darcy with a shake of her head, "but perhaps we can show you how to restore power to the one you have. Could you show me where this battery is?"

"Oh, I suppose so," replies the woman now becoming suspicious of the two Witches.

The woman opens a compartment under the seat of the scooter and shows the two Witches the battery inside.

"Ah, a simple energy storage device," reports Darcy to Morgana in Witchspeak.

"Oh, I can charge that up in a flash," replies Morgana lifting her arms ready to zap the battery with an energy blast from her fingers.

"Not so fast!" hisses Darcy forcing Morgana's arms down. "Let's see what she can do for herself." Then to the woman she says, "Yes, I think we can help you."

"How?" asks the woman.

The moon is full and bright overhead that night. Darcy looks at it and determines that in a pinch it might do as a power source.

"First of all, I want you to put one hand on the battery and stretch your other hand towards your secondary," starts Darcy.

"What?" exclaims the woman. "You sound crazier than that girl Bloom!"

"What?" say the two Witches together lapsing back into Witchspeak.

"Well, duh! This is Gardenia where Bloom grew up," says Darcy. "Hundreds here could know that disgusting little goody-goody."

"Okay, I'll do it!" exclaims the woman upon hearing the two Witches yeowling and spitting a Witchspeak caterwaul chorus. "You don't have to throw a hissy-fit about it."

"Okay, where were we? Oh, yes," continues Darcy putting aside for the moment any thoughts of Bloom. "One hand on the battery and one hand stretched towards your secondary."

"My what?" asks the woman.

"Up there," explains Darcy pointing to the moon while Morgana rolls her eyes and makes a sign of exasperation.

"Oh, okay," replies the woman making a high-pitched laugh like a frightened filly and Morgana barely restrains herself from blocking her ears and beseeching the Under World to gag the woman.

"Tell me she's not for real!" groans Morgana in Witchspeak to Darcy.

Meanwhile, as the woman places one hand on the dead battery of her scooter and stretches the other towards the moon, Darcy instructs her to imagine a stream of energy flowing from the moon into the one hand and through her body to the other hand and then into the battery. She switches into low frequency Witch sight and observes a stream of steady energy flowing from the moon through the young woman's body into the battery and the battery beginning to glow as it recharges.

"Okay, stop now!" instructs Darcy when the battery's glow becomes steady. "Now try starting your scooter."

The woman obliges and the scooter springs to life so quickly that she jumps with a start and whinnies once more like a frightened filly while Morgana grits her teeth not to react.

"But how?" asks the woman in awed and friendlier tones.

"Oh, it's just a little magic," smiles Darcy.

"We have to find out who she is," says Darcy aside to Morgana.

"Who cares about this loser dork!" hisses Morgana in Witchspeak no longer hiding her disdain of the woman. "So she transferred some energy into some primitive Whisperian crystal. Big whoop! Any Witch learns that in her first term."

"Morgana, think for a moment," growls Darcy beginning to lose patience with her hot-headed comrade. "Look what she just did. She took reflected starlight from a primary millions of miles away, converted it into electrical energy and then used it to charge this storage device. And she didn't even break a sweat! Can you do that? Not on your life! Do you have any clue what she is? She is an energy transmutator, that's what she is!"

"But that's just a faerie tale!" retorts Morgana grumpily unwilling to give up on her stand.

"Well, it looks like a faerie tale just became a reality," announces Darcy to her companion. "Do you realize what an advantage this gives us in a sustained fire-fight against those faeries? She can replenish our energy continually from any source – Solaria Ring power, flower power, sonic power, water power, digital power and, yes, even Dragon Fire power. Anything the faeries can throw at us she can absorb, convert and give back to us to throw right back into their stupid pixie faces.

"Cool!" exclaims Morgana as the implications of the strange woman's powers start to dawn on her. But then, suddenly serious, she asks, "But if she can do all this, what's to stop her from using her powers against us?"

"She can't," explains Darcy in Witchspeak. "All she can do is draw power from one source, transform it and then either pass it on to someone else or store it in some receptacle otherwise the power just goes back to its source. But she can transfer power even faster than we can draw power from our natural sources. Otherwise, she has no real power except for the ability to absorb a little of what she transfers to sustain herself."

"You mean," breaks in Morgana excitedly, "she can supercharge our talismans and turbo-charge our Whisperian crystals!"

"You got it, Morgana!" confirms Darcy with an evil smile and a wicked light building in her eyes.

"No way! But what in the name of all evil is she doing here?" wonders Morgana scratching her head.

"Who knows?" shrugs Darcy. "Ask yourself how Bloom got here."

"Perhaps she's a changeling," muses Morgana.

"Who by The Tree cares!" retorts Darcy dismissing Morgana's train of thought. "She's here, she's a Witch and we can use her."

Meanwhile, the strange new Witch is engaged in her own monologue totally unaware of the conversation being held between Darcy and Morgana.

"... She and her friends show up in these gorgeous faerie costumes that just blow my Witch costume away and then her friend Stella," complains the new Witch bitterly, "has to spoil my best ever prank on Bloom by revealing to everyone that the fourth sister is really me in disguise. Then, she has the nerve to tell me in front of just everyone that I wear too much perfume and then the six of them become the life of my party by showing everyone this stupid Pumpkin Patch Boogie...."

"Aww, that's just terrible," remarks Morgana feigning sympathy for the new Witch. "Are perhaps this Bloom's other friends called Stella, Flora, Musa, Tecna and Layla?"

"How did you know?" asks the new Witch wide-eyed.

"Oh, we know them and despise them," says Morgana nastily.

"Yeah," says Darcy and then seductively continues, "so how would you like to get some real revenge on Bloom and her pathetic groupies?"

"Would I!" squeals the new Witch in delight and whinnies. But this time it does not sound to Morgana half as bad as it did before. "What do I have to do? Will it be like a super prank?"

"No!" laugh Darcy and Morgana together genuinely amused by the new Witch's simplistic and naive idea of revenge.

"You are going to do much more than just prank them," Darcy continues. "We will show you how to witch them up but good."

"Really?" exclaims the new Witch her expression becoming feral and her eyes taking on a witchy glow.

"Really," confirms Darcy, "and all you have to do is join our little sisterhood and we'll teach you all and more than you can imagine on how to witch up Bloom and her friends. Oh! By the way, I'm Darcy and my sister here is Morgana. And what's your name?"

"I'm Mitzi," declares the new Witch standing proudly.

"Nice to meet you, Mitzi," reply Darcy and Morgana shaking Mitzi's hand.

"Say, Mitzi," asks Morgana, "do you know any good places where a Witch can get a decent bite to eat at this hour? We'll treat you and we can talk about you joining us while we eat."

"Sure," smiles Mitzi, "the best fillet mignon in town is served in a restaurant just around the corner. Just a moment while I lock up my scooter and then we can walk there."

"That sounds great!" grins Morgana and while Mitzi is occupied with locking up her scooter whispers to Darcy in Witchspeak, "Do you think she has any idea that the three of us are Witches?"

"Not a chance," replies Darcy grinning wickedly. "She's going to be very useful to us but she's dumber than a cork. It was probably that little mishap that awoke her powers and she drained the scooter's battery herself during that manoeuver that saved her life tonight."

"Yeah," agrees Morgana, "and when we get her to Cloud Tower we're going to witch her up and she is so going to do whatever we want her to do. She'll even steal the Dragon Fire right from under Bloom's stupid pixie nose for us and afterwards we are so going to rule."

"Hmm...." muses Darcy. "After we've settled those pixies' hash we should turn her loose and see what she can do with ice power."

"Oh yeah!" exclaims Morgana relishing the thought of revenge, "It can't come soon enough!"

"Done! Let's go!" says Mitzi.

"Lead on, we'll follow," replies Morgana.

And as the newest Witch of the New Trix leads the way Darcy and Morgana join her as they head into the dark of the night and are transported to a magical realm far beyond Terra.


	30. A Harsh Awakening

**Chapter 30 : A Harsh Awakening**

Mitzi awakens to find herself in a strange room and lying upon what seems to her to be a thick rubber mat but which conforms perfectly to her body. She tries to sit up but finds herself feeling disoriented and wanting to lie back on the mat again.

"Well, look who's finally awake," says a voice then above her is standing the blonde who had been introduced to her as Morgana.

"Up on your feet," orders Morgana and pulls Mitzi roughly from the mat and onto her feet. Mitzi experiences a moment of dizziness and then gasps when she looks out a window and sees two suns in the sky.

"Where am I?" asks Mitzi near panic.

"You are in our apartment at Cloud Tower and on our planet," replies Morgana harshly as if that was the dumbest question she's been asked by anyone. "Darcy," yells Morgana, "the little witch is awake."

Mitzi looks on as a door opens in the wall and Darcy literally flies out of it and lands softly beside her. "You fly!" gasps Mitzi – her mouth open in amazement and Morgana rolls her eyes and says to Darcy in Witchspeak, "Goddess, she's hopeless. She'd better have this power you say she has."

"Yes, we can fly and so can you. Learning to fly will be the first lesson of the day," Darcy replies in gentler tones. "Come with us."

The Witches lead Mitzi out to a stone gangplank high on Cloud Tower. Then each of them take one of her hands and leaps to what Mitzi believes is to her death and then in freefall let go of her hands.

"Fly!" orders Morgana.

"I can't! I can't!" screams Mitzi as they fall but still she flaps her arms in a valiant effort to fly. When Morgana and Darcy see that she is indeed falling to her doom, they once again take her hands and fly her back up to the gangplank.

"Don't mess with me, girl!" screams Morgana at Mitzi when they are once again on the gangplank. "Flying should be natural to a witch like you."

"Please, let me go," pleas Mitzi – the tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Maybe she can't see the streams, Morgana," says Darcy. "Let me try to fix that," and touches Mitzi's temple with her index finger. "Okay, now she should be able to see them."

"Fine," says Morgana and turning to Mitzi says to her, "Look straight a head of you but don't look down. Do you see the streams?"

"Yes," says Mitzi but then she does look down into the swirling vortices below, is overcome with nausea and wretches violently over the gangplank and down the front of her dress.

"I told you not to look down!" screams Morgana at Mitzi and smacks her so hard that she is knocked off her feet. "Get up!" she orders Mitzi, grabbing her by her hair and standing her on her feet. "This is like belly surfing on the wind. So fly!" and once again shoves Mitzi off the gangplank.

Darcy and Morgana follow Mitzi down who this time is able to break the rate of descent enough to float down like a leaf. But again, seeing that Mitzi was about to land too hard on the ground, they take her hands and bring her back once more to the gangplank.

" No more, please!" begs Mitzi as Morgana makes ready to push her off the gangplank. "I feel like I'm going to be sick again and I have to go really badly!"

"Morgana, ease up," says Darcy. "Can't you see that she's terrified. We want her compliant not broken."

"Nonsense," replies Morgana. "I've found that a bit of fear makes for a good instructor," and shoves Mitzi yet again from off the gangplank.

This time, Mitzi manages to make a soft landing on the ground but, before Darcy can object, Morgana has Mitzi on the gangplank and shoves her off again. However, instead of falling, Mitzi manages to fly around the gangplank and land, if not smoothly, upon her feet.

"Very good, Mitzi," Darcy tells her.

"Well, it's about time," growls Morgana. "Okay, once more."

"No, Morgana!" snarls Darcy with a hint of anger in her voice. "This suffices for the day. Let her go back to the apartment."

"Very well," snaps Morgana and shoves Mitzi hard in her back. "Get back there!"

When they enter into the apartment, Morgana then shows Mitzi into a small room. "Get undressed, put one of these clips on each of your clothes and drop them down the shoot here. Then shower and put on some fresh clothes. I'll be waiting outside. The stench of you is making me sick."

Within a few minutes, Mitzi comes out of the room stark naked and asks, "Where is the shower and how do I get fresh clothes?"

"Goddess!" screams Morgana, grabbing Mitzi's ear and dragging her back into the room.

"Ouch! You're hurting me," Darcy hears Mitzi's muffled voice through the door.

"Shut up!" yells Morgana and then there is a sharp smacking sound, a yelp of pain, and crying.

"Get in there and start showering," orders Morgana.

"You could have told me that this is a shower!" protests Mitzi.

"I told you to shut up. Now, start showering or do you want another smack?" yells Morgana.

"No," replies Mitzi, sobbing, "but how do I turn this on?"

"You're hopeless!" snarls Morgana. "Haven't you ever heard of a sonic shower? Very well, place one foot here, one there, your arms apart, hands open with fingers spread, and your eyes shut. Don't move or open your eyes until I say."

Darcy listens to the sonic shower cycling thinking that it would stop after five cycles but when it reaches eleven cycles, she puts her hand to her mouth and thinks, "Goddess!"

"Now put your feet here," comes Morgana's voice from behind the door. "Same deal, arms away from the body, hands open and eyes shut. Don't move until I say."

A few moments later, both Mitzi and Morgana come out of the room. Mitzi is looking fresh, if not refreshed, and is wearing a comely disposable dress.

"Look," says Mitzi tearfully. "If this is about all the bad things I said about Bloom, then I'm truly sorry. I'll apologize to her and kiss her little feet if that is what you want me to do."

"That's the last thing you're going to do," says Morgana. "You are going to help us destroy Bloom and crush her friends into faerie dust. That's what you want, isn't it?"

"No, I never wished her dead," protests Mitzi, "just put in her place because she thinks that she is better than everyone… and all that." Suddenly, Mitzi's eyes go wide in shock. "You mean that Bloom and her friends are real Faeries and those where real Faerie wings!" gasps Mitzi.

"Well, duh, Darcy!" snarks Morgana, "the little witch has finally put one and one together. Perhaps she's not as dumb as she looks."

"Then, I'm really a Witch?" asks Mitzi.

"Yes, as much as it pains me to say so, you are," says Morgana.

"Time to eat," breaks in Darcy. "Are you hungry?"

"Yes," replies Mitzi hopefully, "starving."

Darcy has Mitzi seated at a sunken table between them. "Start with these," says Morgana, then takes a handful of what seems to be short pieces of spaghetti, shoves them into her mouth and then proffers the bowl to Mitzi. Mitzi looks into the bowl to see it chock full of white, squirming and slimy maggots then to Morgana's face to see a maggot still wriggling out of the corner of her mouth, turns seven shades of green, and makes a beeline for the washroom where she wretches miserably into the sink.

"What now?" says Morgana exasperated and makes to get up from the table.

"Leave her be," replies Darcy, taking Morgana's arm and bringing her back to the table. "Let's finish our meal."

Darcy and Morgana have just finished when Mitzi finally comes back shaking and as white as a ghost.

"You had better not have left a mess in there," Morgana begins to tear into Mitzi, raising her hand, "or I'll smack…," but Darcy forces down her hand.

"I said enough, Morgana," shouts Darcy. "Leave her be."

"But…," Morgana starts to protest but Darcy gives her a cold, hard look.

"Good night, Morgana," says Darcy firmly.

"Whatever," growls Morgana, giving Mitzi a dirty look and a derisive snort through her nose. Then, turning, she seems to be walking straight into a wall until Mitzi sees an invisible door open and then close behind her.

"You must eat something or you're going to collapse," says Darcy gently. "Do you think you can manage to eat at least a little something?"

"Yes," replies Mitzi, "but not those!"

"I think I can find something that is easier for you," says Darcy. "Wait here a moment."

Darcy comes back and offers Mitzi a thick, rectangular, brown biscuit and a tall glass of water.

"What is in this?" Mitzi asks her.

"It's a survival ration," replies Darcy. "It is all vegetable matter." Then, when Darcy sees a starving Mitzi about to cram the whole bar into her mouth, she grabs it away from her. "No! No! No!" warns Darcy. "This is highly concentrated foodstuff. Take only small bites at a time, chew thoroughly and follow with a few sips of water. Slowly now," and hands the ration back to Mitzi. Darcy makes a hypnotic gesture and a crystal vial and a brush appear and seem to hang in mid-air. Darcy spills some of the contents of the crystal vial into her hands, rubs them together and applies it to Mitzi's hair.

"What is it?" asks Mitzi as Darcy next takes the floating brush and starts brushing her hair.

"I don't think it has a name in Terran," says Darcy. "It is oil distilled from the bark of a tree native to Alfea that makes you smell great and puts a really healthy shine into your hair. You like to look pretty, don't you?"

"Yes," whispers Mitzi shyly.

"And if you can make it through the next few weeks, I promise that you will become even more beautiful," coos Darcy in silky tones. "Now, you will have to get to sleep. Morning comes early on Alfea and you have much to learn. The mat there is very comfortable and adjusts itself to your body shape and temperature requirements for a good night's sleep. I'll see you in the morning."

Darcy vanishes and Mitzi makes her way to the mat as the lights begin to dim. It is, as Darcy promised her, comfortable but, as Mitzi tries to fall asleep, fear again begins to find its way into her heart and tears trickle down her face. "Bloom," she whispers, "if you are really here and can hear me then I'm sorry for being so mean to you. Please, come save me from these witches and especially from the one called Morgana!" Then silently she cries herself to exhaustion and to sleep.


	31. A Bolt out of the Blue

**Chapter 31 : A Bolt from the Blue**

Time goes by and Ishandra with Layla, Alessandra, Timmy from Red Fountain and occasionally Bloom continue to regularly inspect the integrity of the force field about Alfea College. Darcy and Morgana make their presence felt by blatantly observing the field's inspection from afar. Ishandra and the Faeries do their best to ignore the two Witches but Timmy and Alessandra are uneasy.

"They're probing for weaknesses in our defences," Timmy confides to Alessandra. "I wish Tecna were here," he says for the thousandth time.

"Have you made progress in learning her whereabouts?" asks Alessandra.

"No," replies Timmy with a look of worry. "I still have nothing more than the note she left me saying that she was off on a special mission. I even sent an enquiry to Binos… and… if I didn't know better, I would think they were giving me the run-around."

"We should still try to reinforce the field," says Alessandra seriously.

"I think so too," replies Timmy, "but this is Tecna's and Miss Faragonda's field. I know little about it and I think it best to keep my ignorant paws off of it lest I bring it crashing down."

"Hmm…," says Alessandra. "If we can not strengthen Tecna's field, perhaps we could add fields of our own on either side of it. The outermost would be like the Sky Dyke, Tecna's field would be the Middle Dyke and the one on the inside would be the Lazy Dyke."

"An excellent idea!" smiles Timmy, with an approving look at Alessandra. "I think that the new fields should also have different configurations. The Sky Dyke could be made more plasma resistant to thwart Morgana's power and the Lazy Dyke… well… I need to think on that.

"Perhaps the Sky Dyke should be Dragon Fire," says Alessandra, knitting her brow in thought.

"Why Dragon Fire?" asks Timmy. "It's not proof against plasma fire that I know of."

"True," replies Alessandra, "but Morgana's plasma fire may be the least of our worries," and Timmy frowns. "We forget that Darcy is not only the Mistress of Illusion but she is also still able to call forth The Army of Decay. If Darcy completes her trix, the next generation of rot-monsters is going to be thrice as powerful and three times as many as before. A Dragon Fire field may be our only defence against them."

"Yes, that is a distinct possibility," says Timmy, nodding, "and we were really caught off guard when they attacked Magix, Red Fountain and Alfea College the last time. They nearly doomed us and we can be sure that Darcy's not going to be caught by the same trick that defeated them before. We are going to have to make careful consideration on how to deploy the new fields and, most of all, keep any knowledge of them a secret from Darcy and Morgana."

Meanwhile, in Flora's dorm at Alfea College, a metal concave bowl floats in the air, moves slightly to the right, wobbles and then goes careening onto the floor spilling its liquid contents over taloned and down covered feet.

"Goddess!" cries Flora. "I don't believe this. This should be child's play!" and then looks into a multi-coloured down covered face in frustration.

"Patience, Little One," chirps Alysoun, the Avian-Witch healer of Cloud Tower, while caressing Flora's frowning face with the edge of her wing. "It will take time for you to learn how to use your cyberneticly enhanced hands. It is like learning to fly again: little step by little step. Don't forget the progress you have already made. You have re-mastered all the manual skills of a non-magical being. Learning to direct magic is going to take a bit more time."

"But I'm sick and tired of being patient," protests Flora. "I am near the point of grabbing things and smashing them onto or through other things. So what if I have the motor skills of a non-magical being! A Faerie is defined by her ability to use magic and without that ability she is a cripple and totally useless."

"Hey!" scolds Alysoun with an agitated flutter of her wings. "Let's have no more such talk. You are not a cripple nor are you useless. You are still the most powerful empath on Alfea and that does not require the use of hands. What were the results of Timmy's last evaluation?"

"According to him," says Flora dejectedly, "nothing is wrong. So why can't I control magic? I wish Tecna were here. She'd know what to do."

"This is not the Flora I know who is a rock of peace and inner tranquility," says a voice coming from behind Alysoun. "I think that my favourite Faerie is in seriously bad need of some huggies."

Alysoun turns as a petite young woman with blue-black hair, stylized lightning bolts painted on her cheeks and a pulsating crystal glowing just below her collar bone enters the room.

"Leffi!" cries Flora, her face suddenly joyful as she sees the Storm-Witch and reaches out to hug her. "What a surprise! How are you, Sweetie? When did you get back?"

"I arrived at Magix about thirty minutes ago via the transportus," replies Leffi, "and then flew directly here to find out how you are doing. Tecna also sends you her greetings."

"Then she is on Binos and is well?" asks Flora excitedly. "Timmy will be so relieved to hear that. He's been worried sick about her. So have we all!"

"You can't say a word to anyone," says Leffi with a dead serious expression on her woman-child's face. "She is on a mission so secret she told me that if she tells me what it is then she would have to kill me. I may be putting her life in danger by saying just this much," and Flora and Alysoun stare at her floored in utter disbelief.

"But…," Flora finally begins to stammer.

"Not a word to _anyone,"_ restates Leffi emphatically and the two nod.

"What is with the gloom, doom and tragedy?" asks Stella as she enters. "I think that more than my favourite flower is in need of some sunshine."

"Hello, Stella!" Flora and Alysoun greet the blonde Faerie.

"Hello, Stella," says Leffi with an air of apprehension.

"I come bearing gifts from Solaria," announces Stella as she sprinkles Flora with Faerie dust. All look on as Flora's dress transforms into a beautiful golden creation with a sunflower motif. "From the Royal Seamstresses of the Royal Palace of Solaria – so haute couture, dawling, so à propose and so you!"

The golden sunshine Faerie next turns her attention to the Avian-Witch healer. "I was hoping to find you here for I have a little something for you too."

"For me?" chirps Alysoun, surprised.

"I noticed that your medicine bag is near its last days and is also so last millennia that it needs to be replaced… so…," and then sprinkles Faerie dust over Alysoun's hands and, while all look on, the dust mutates into a beautiful, golden medicine bag decorated with pale blue jewels. "It is made from the silk of the Solarian sun spider," explains Stella, "and the stones are Solarian blue opals. It's supposed to be the healer's totem – I hope we got it right."

"Yes, it's exactly right," says Alysoun in awe. "You know that this is just what I was going to have to get myself… but why?"

"You saved Flora's life," says Stella humbly, "and that to me is more precious than anything I can say or give to you. This is but a small token of my thanks."

"Thank you," coos Alysoun, caressing Stella's cheek with her wing. "I shall treasure this always."

Stella turns again to Flora and sees that she is near tears. "What is so the matter, Flora?" she asks her.

"I still can't use magic," sobs Flora. "I failed even the simplest levitation tests," and Stella looks at Alysoun who nods in confirmation. "I can feel my plants, my babies, calling to me. I feel them suffering and I can't do a thing to help them!" and tears spill from her eyes.

"Yikes! That's mega-harsh!" exclaims Stella taking the Empathic Faerie of Nature into her arms.

"I may be able to help," says Leffi and Stella frowns at her. "Give me your hand a moment, Flora."

Flora extends to Leffi her hand which she takes between her own and then goes into a state of deep concentration. "Ah!" says Leffi. "Here's your problem."

"What problem?" asks Flora, concerned. "Timmy's latest tests indicated that there was nothing wrong."

"That is because Timmy does not have a neural net as do Tecna and I," explains Leffi. "Our neural nets can detect things that even the best of Timmy's gadgets can not."

"So what's the problem?" asks Flora.

"Tecna seems to have miscalculated the amount of bio-electricity you generate," says Leffi.

"Tecna making a miscalculation?" asks Stella incredulously. "I find that hard to believe. It would be a first if she did," and then winces as she feels Alysoun's taloned hand take her shoulder with slight pressure.

"Be quiet, Stella," warns Alysoun. "Continue, please," she requests the Storm-Witch.

"Flora's cybernetic hands will only be able to direct magic when they are working at full capacity. Right now they are working at about only quarter capacity. Enough for the everyday tasks but not nearly enough for directing magic. They require a jump start of electricity Flora is unable to give them to be fully functional but which I can."

Alysoun requests Leffi to give her the details of the procedure. When finished, Alysoun makes a trill of agreement and tells Flora, "The procedure is safe. Do you want it done now?"

"Yes," replies Flora, her face somewhat brightened with hope. "Let's do it."

"You are not going to like this at all," warns Leffi. "But as someone once said, my pretty Faerie: if there is no pain then there is no gain," then magics forth a heavy wooden table with insulated manacles designed to hold one's arms flat against the top. Before Flora can utter a word in protest, Leffi has an arm in each manacle and has them locked firmly down. Leffi places her palms against Flora's and the air is filled with a humming sound and the sharp smell of ozone as lightning jumps from her hands into Flora's.

"Owwe-wah!" screams Flora. "By the Goddess and the Tree, that hurts!"

"I'm sorry," Leffi tells her, "but this is the only way. Well…, we have made some progress but you still require one or two more shocks," and sends another shock through Flora's hands which makes Flora scream in agony and Stella look at Leffi in panic and Alysoun with concern.

"We are almost there, pretty Faerie," says Leffi comfortingly. "Be brave just one more time," and sends a final shock into Flora's hands.

As Flora recovers from that final shock, Leffi releases her arms from their manacles, takes her hands and announces, "We have full power. Your body should be able to sustain that level from now on. Do you feel any difference?"

"I don't really know," replies Flora.

"Try casting a spell, something simple," Leffi encourages her.

Flora waves her hands hypnotically and from them flow vines that appear first to be covered in nasty spines but as they wrap themselves about the petite Storm-Witch, they mutate into stems that burst into sweet ornamental flowers.

"She's done it! I'm completely cured!" cries Flora as she leaps and spins in the air while a cascade of flower petals tumbles over a golden haired Faerie whose face is radiant with sunlight, an Avian-Witch healer who is warbling for joy and a Storm-Witch who is smiling excitedly.

Flora lands and sweeps up the Storm-Witch, wrapping her in both her arms and her Enchantix wings. "Thank you, Leffi, thank you," she cries but the tears that tumble from her eyes are ones of joy. "I guess I now owe two Witches a life debt," she smiles at both Leffi and Alysoun.

Leffi finds herself at a loss as to how to respond for never before has anyone ever given her such wholehearted and grateful thanks for anything nor ever declared owing her a life debt. "I hope my pretty Faerie still likes huggies too," she finally says.

"Of course, of course she does," coos Flora softly while hugging Leffi and kissing her forehead.

Stella turns to Leffi who looks back at her anxiously. "I guess…," begins Stella hesitantly. "I guess it is time to do as Layla has told me I must do and let bygones be bygones," then kissing each of Leffi's temples she whispers, "My Sister."

Leffi hesitates for a moment, then too kisses each of Stella's temples and with a sweet smile gracing her woman-child's face and beautiful blue fire glowing in her eyes whispers in her ear, "My Sister."


	32. The Midnight Visitor

**Chapter 32 : The Midnight Visitor**

Riven is tossing and turning in his sleep – his dreams filled with thoughts of Musa and Darcy. Suddenly, he feels the weight of something sitting heavily on his abdomen and pinning his shoulders against his bed and pillow. Riven opens his eyes to find himself staring into the face of a lioness-sized cat with brown and ginger fur but its eyes – even though they are now vertically slit – he recognizes.

"Darcy!" exclaims Riven.

"The one and only," purrs the apparition in Darcy's sultry and seductive voice.

"How did you get in here?" Riven asks the Mistress of Illusion.

"Silly boy!" replies Darcy with a slow double wink. "Don't you know that bars, doors and walls are not a barrier to a Witch who wants what she wants?"

"What is it you want, Darcy?" demands Riven.

"Why, I want you, Puppy-Dog," replies Darcy while looking hungrily down at him and licking her feline chops. "What else do you think I'd be here for?"

"No!" exclaims Riven. "I have gone back to Musa and we have exchanged vows with each other to wed."

"What care I about any vows you made with a dumb pixie!" growls Darcy and Riven winces as he feels the claws of her hind feet beginning to dig into his abdomen.

"I have changed my mind," says Darcy softly, relaxing her claws. "I will marry you, become your queen and even adopt a child as your heir, if that is what needs be done."

"It's too late for that, Darcy," groans Riven. "We have been over this time and time again and we both know that this will not work out between us."

"I could force you to want me," says Darcy with cold eyes looking down into Riven's.

"What? You think you can flip-flop my emotions as someone does with a light switch?" asks Riven.

"Something like that," purrs Darcy with a nasty edge to her voice. "All it would take is a little scratch and a lick and you'll be my slave forever. But I don't want a mindless slave."

"But then what is it you want?" growls Riven.

"I want you as you are," states Darcy.

"Give it up, Darcy!" Riven almost yells. "For the Goddess' sake, just give it up!"

"I will not 'just give it up'," is Darcy's soft but cattish reply. "Tell me, Riven, and tell me the truth for I will know if you try to deceive me. Who is it you truly love?"

"It is you, Darcy," says Riven softly while trying to bring her furry face lower to his chest and scratch behind her ears. "It is you whom I truly love."

"I love you too," breathes Darcy as Riven feels a furry muzzle nuzzle against his face, a warm cat's tongue lick his cheek, the sensation of whiskers against his nose and the wetness of a nose purring into his ear. "Then why," whispers Darcy, with almost a sob in her voice, "have you chosen a whimsy-flimsy, feather-brained pixie like Musa over me who is a real woman who can give you all she can and more?"

"It is the way it must be," whispers Riven sadly. "There can be no other way."

"Then you are rejecting me," states Darcy coldly.

"It is not that I want to," sighs Riven.

"Very well," snarls Darcy, her claws digging once more into Riven's abdomen. "If I can not have you then neither shall Musa. You have sealed Musa's doom. She's going to die!" and Riven is jolted suddenly awake by a vision of Darcy's face, having mutated into that of a enormous hooded serpent armed with fangs dripping venom, that comes snapping for his face.

"This has got to have been a nightmare," whispers Riven, shocked fully awake. But then he feels the warm moistness of something leaking over his thighs. He places a hand over his abdomen that he removes slicked with blood. "There has got to be another explanation," he tries to reason, but then, as he moves to stand up, he feels something hard and sharp against his thigh. Picking up the object, Riven recognizes it as an earring that can only be Darcy's and his hearts are seized by cold, dark talons of dread.


	33. Flying Fur

**Chapter 33 : Flying Fur**

Mitzi is crying as she sits at her vanity in what was once Stormy's room trying to stem the flow of blood from a nasty wound down her cheek. At that moment, her thoughts are far from whether it will leave a scar or not but on her anger and her burning desire to have another have-at-her with Morgana. If Morgana is entertaining any thoughts of exacting revenge against this someone named Icy with her help, then, Mitzi is now determined to throw a very large spanner into her plans.

The past few weeks had been hard on her as Darcy said they would. There were several weeks in which she burned with fever and delirium as her body fought to cope with the invasion of Alfean microbes and the pulls and pushes on her body from the influence of Alfea's two suns and three moons. Sometimes she would open her eyes and look into the face of what she thought was an angel with brown and amber streaked hair who mopped her brow and face with a cool cloth, gently whispered to her that all would be well, and encouraged her to drink warm broth from a bowl she brought to her lips. Sometimes in her delirium she thought she heard sweet singing in a strange tongue that was occasionally punctuated with hot angry stabs of another voice speaking the same language.

On the Planet of Alfea, Mitzi learns that her family name and wealth mean nothing – a fact that Morgana takes nasty delight in reminding her at every opportunity and telling her just how low among the lowest Witches at Cloud Tower she stood. They take away her one lovely dress and force her to wear only disposable clothes. To her fall all the most disagreeable tasks in the apartment. "I am Cinderella," thinks Mitzi bitterly, "and Darcy and Morgana are my two ugly step-sisters and this Icy they talk about so much must be the wicked step-mother."

"Well, that is not quite the truth," recalls Mitzi. Darcy has been pretty decent to her and she felt that there was a modicum of friendship between them. It was Darcy who saw to it that she had a room of her own, it was Darcy who took care of her when her body was racked with fever and delirium, it was Darcy who eased her in to the Witches' insect diet and, finally, it was Darcy who stood between her and Morgana's wrath and disdain.

Both Darcy and Morgana are Mitzi's instructors teaching her how to use her powers as an energy transmutator. Mitzi finds pride in learning she has such powers and works hard to learn quickly but, although she receives praise from Darcy, all she gets from Morgana are barbed remarks and dirty looks. Then, to make matters worse, when Morgana was training her in Darcy's absence, Morgana would whip her back and buttocks without letup with a tasselled flail and threaten her with blue plasma fire whenever she failed to snap-to to Morgana's instructions and wishes. Yet, by-and-by, Mitzi learns that although Morgana's blue plasma is formidable, Morgana is still a one-trick Witch who needs space and time to call forth her powers.

This day, she and Morgana were training in the Cloud Tower courtyard. Morgana was trying to teach her a very complex manoeuvre that, try as she may, Mitzi could not get it down to Morgana's satisfaction. After the seventh attempt and the seventh failure, Morgana loses her patience and smites Mitzi's shoulder hard with her flail and, whether intended or not, one of the knotted tassels of her flail slashes down Mitzi's cheek cutting a deep gouge. Mitzi screams and with every ounce of pain and anger throws a punch that connects squarely with Morgana's jaw and a second punch lands directly on her nose with a crack. Morgana attempts to move back and call up her plasma fire but Mitzi knew now to keep close and not give her any room to move. Morgana then tries to throw a punch in return but Mitzi uses its momentum to trip her and she lands with a hard belly-flop onto the ground. When Darcy arrives on the scene to break up the catfight, she finds a screaming and bleeding Mitzi on top of Morgana with a knee into her back, her one hand twisting Morgana's arm in an excruciatingly painful manner and her other hand filled with a fistful of Morgana's golden hair as she tries to shove Morgana's face into a shallow mud puddle.

Darcy pulls Mitzi from off Morgana's back and is about to have words with her when she sees the rivulet of blood trickling down her cheek, down her neck and onto her blouse. "Go clean yourself up and change," Darcy orders her.

Meanwhile, Morgana picks herself from off the ground, puts her hand to her bleeding and swelling nose, her bruising jaw and wails, "That witch broke my nose!" but Darcy shows her no sympathy.

"It looks to me like you got what you deserve, Morgana," says Darcy angrily. "What went down here?"

"I was trying to teach her the double-twist escape manoeuvre," protests Morgana. "It is simple enough but she's too stupid to do it so I administered a bit of incentive to make her smarten up and get it right."

"So you struck her with this, didn't you?" says Darcy, levitating Morgana's tasselled flail from the ground and brandishing it under her nose. "How long has this been going on?" asks Darcy rhetorically. "Don't bother to tell me, I know how long. How many times have I told you that I want her compliant and not broken? We need Mitzi's cooperation to defeat Icy and the Winx and, thanks to you, we won't be getting much without using an obedience spell on her, will we?"

"So who cares? We'll use and obedience spell on her," retorts Morgana and Darcy explodes.

"Look, Morgana," rages Darcy. "I need Mitzi's power but_ you _are not irreplaceable. I'm sure that if I got rid of you, I could find more than one or two Witches with a bone to pick with Icy who would be more than willing to take your place to form a new trix and not give me any trouble. You are the one who needs shape-up or ship out! Now, go have Alysoun take care of that and, when you get back, just stay out of my sight and out of my way."

"By your command," growls Morgana and vanishes.

Back in her room, Mitzi's thoughts are once again on Bloom as she is still trying to stop the bleeding down her cheek. "Is this what I have become?" she asks herself as the mirror before her reflects back not her own face but Morgana's with a cruel and spiteful smirk. "Why have I been so mean to Bloom?" she asks, searching her heart. "It was jealousy, pure and simple," she realizes as more tears flow down her cheeks. Mitzi had wealth and, because of her family name, some position in Gardenian society. Mitzi wore fine clothes, ate gourmet food, went to the finest private schools and was considered by all to be beautiful and intelligent. But what Bloom had were two parents that loved her dearly instead of a social butterfly mother who treated her existence as if it were an accident and thought it more important to attend parties to rub elbows with the rich and powerful than to take the time to raise her daughter and a father, who although a good man, had no concept of female issues and who believed that all of Mitzi's problems would vanish if he threw enough money at them. And Bloom had friends – true friends – instead of her fair weather friends who were friends so long as they could sun themselves in the light of Mitzi's wealth and position and enjoy the lavish gifts and parties she threw for them. And, "while Mitzi had the bling," as the expression went in Gardenia, "Bloom had the boys," – hundreds of them who worshiped her and the very ground she walked on for just being Bloom while for Mitzi the only thing any guy seemed to want from her was to bed her and take her money. And that made Mitzi's heart fat and burn with jealousy of Bloom.

Mitzi has her forehead in her hands when there is a hum in the air and suddenly Darcy is there with a comforting and sisterly arm about her neck and shoulders. "Why didn't you tell me that Morgana was doing this to you?" she asks Mitzi softly.

"I was afraid to," sobs Mitzi. "I thought you would punish me for complaining and Morgana's whippings would become worse."

"Morgana had a right to be strict with you but no right to whip you and hurt you like this," growls Darcy. "There will be no more of this because I alone will finish your training. Morgana's name is high in my bad book at this moment. So, if she dares to threaten you or touch you with her flail or anything else like that again, you tell me and, by the Goddess and the Tree, I'll settle her hash in a hurry," Darcy steams. "Now," says Darcy gently, "let's have a look at what she did to your cheek."

"I think it will need stitching and will leave a nasty scar," observes Mitzi.

"Stitching?" Darcy asks Mitzi, looking at her quizzically. "That's so like out of the Dark Ages. No, no stitching and no scar," Darcy assures her, "but you must hold still for me," and with that she moves two fingers that are pulsating with light energy in an erasing fashion down Mitzi's cheek. "Take a look now."

Mitzi looks into the mirror which is now reflecting her own image. She puts her fingers to her cheek and feels and sees no scar – just the firm and blemish free skin of a young woman. "It's like gone!" exclaims Mitzi. "Did you use magic or witchcraft to make it better?"

"Magic, yes," explains Darcy but not witchcraft. It was actually a bit of Faerie magic I picked up from a Faerie named Flora. But hush! No telling!" she adds with a grin. "Everyone would think I've gone soft if they heard that I used Faerie magic – and I do have a reputation to keep up as a Witch."

"What might I do to thank you?" asks Mitzi.

"Nothing," replies Darcy, "except to promise me that if you come to blows with Morgana again that you will break both her arms and crack her shins for me instead of just busting her nose," and before Mitzi can reply, Darcy passes her hand before Mitzi's eyes, causing her to fall into a deep sleep. Then, levitating her body, Darcy stretches Mitzi out on her bed and covers her with a blanket then commands the lights in her room to dim. "All will be well," she whispers to a sleeping Mitzi. "I promise," then departs.


	34. Ominous Silence

**Chapter 34 : Ominous Silence**

Musa could not be happier if she were in Faerie Utopia which to her she was. Darcy and Morgana have done a vanishing act. Riven was again with her and he was hers and she was his. Their wedding plans were well under way. Riven's adoptive father, the King of Planet Daingneach, had even granted the couple a few months extra in which to draw up their plans so their wedding would be the talk of the decade. The guest list included all the residence of Alfea College and Red Fountain and, much to their surprise, Ishandra, Leffi, Mirta, Alessandra and Alysoun.

Meanwhile, Riven cannot seem to spend enough time with her. There was dancing, fine dining, levabike racing, dragonback riding and just long, romantic strolls in the parks. Riven was learning to be a respectable player of the tenor recorder for which Musa was quietly grateful that he hadn't picked up the shawn, crumhorn, rackett or the jaw harp. He did not think much of Musa's guitar playing but loved it when she played the gut strung lute for him. Once Riven added to his repertoire several tunes that they could do in duet, the lute became one of Musa's favourite instruments as well. And every night there was hot and steamy lovemaking that was far beyond fantastic – although she could never get him to explain to her the strange new scars on his chest and abdomen.

Bloom was settling in as the Headmistress of Alfea College. She was expecting resentment and resistance from Ms Griselda for being passed over for the position but it turned out that Griselda could not do enough to help her and offered her sound advice and warnings about novice mistakes one makes when starting out.

Bloom took direct interest in her students and taught several of the first year classes herself – much to the delight of her students. With Ishandra's help, she instituted a system of incentives and rewards to motivate everyone to strive to achieve her utmost and to assist her fellows when they flagged or fell behind. Ishandra also continued to train Bloom on the mastery of the Dragon's Fire and Bloom came to realize that she still had much to learn.

Tecna continued to be among the missing and if anyone knew anything about her whereabouts they were keeping silent. Meanwhile, Leffi had become Timmy's protégée. As his student, Leffi astounded him with her unexpected ways of coming up with miracle solutions to solving technical problems that he, in many cases, couldn't get his head around. He soon began calling her the Mistress of Warped and Fuzzy Logic.

Flora taught courses in nature studies but most of her time was spend administrating the student exchange program between Alfea College and Cloud Tower and being in communication with Sabrina who was her counterpart there.

Flora was hoping that Vulpa would be among her exchange students and was greatly saddened to learn from Sabrina that Vulpa passed away almost a year ago – before reaching her twentieth year. As per her wishes, Vulpa's funeral was a quiet event kept just within the Witch community but, as per the custom on Alfea, her ashes were released to The Goddess over Lake Roccaluce. Most at Cloud Tower continued to mourn her passing with many going so far as to call her a saint.

Now that thirty Witches were attending Alfea College and the same number of Faeries was attending Cloud Tower, the tensions between them began to ease. Many come to realize that most of the arguments that kept the two groups fighting each other were based on hearsay, misunderstandings, misconceptions or disputes that were now millennia in the past and had nothing to do with the here and now. Slowly, they came to realize that it was well past the time when both sides should have buried the hatchet and wiped the slate clean and together herald a new era of mutual trust and respect.

Flora became solid with a blue-skinned, lotus-eyed Witch named Meera. They shared the same interests in nature, peace and world harmony although Meera's interests were more towards the zoological whereas Flora's were towards the botanical. Meera told Flora how she could achieve more of her inner potential by awakening her kundalini. Flora shivered to think that two creepy snaky things could have taken up residents in her body and were coiled about her spine. In time, she came to realize that the "snakes" were only a physical reference for an abstract concept and re-imagined them as a double helix of her beloved ivy vines and that the "awakening" was equivalent to coming into blossom. Meera ran into a snag, though, when discussing chakras and Flora had to explain to her that Faeries had six hearts and not just one as do Witches. Meera scratched her head over that one for a few days but came to the decision that the hearts in the centre of Flora's chest, which were directly linked to her lungs and flight muscles, formed the actual Heart Chakra because of their position and because flight was one of the major defining elements of a Faerie while the other four were incorporated into the throat and sacral chakras. Finally, Flora came to love Meera's spicy style of vegetarian cooking and the hours spent together compounding new fragrances to be used in oils and incense for aromatherapy.

Layla decided to pick up Nabu and fly to Tides there to visit with her parents and to take a mental health break.

Stella had thoughts of taking Brandon to Solaria there to find a cottage in the enchanted forest away from the hustle and hassle of court and possibly begin planning for a family.

Bloom is just signing off on Stella's leave request and wondering if she will ever marry and start a family when there is a sharp knock on the door.

"Come in, Isha," calls Bloom, having come to know that particular knock.

The door opens and Ishandra, Leffi, Mirta and Alessandra file in. "We need to talk," states Ishandra.

"What is the problem?" asks Bloom, feeling uneasy being confronted by four Witches.

"It's this sudden protracted silence," says Ishandra. "We're getting an uneasy feeling about this."

"Why should this be a problem?" asks Bloom.

"I'm putting all odds on Darcy being about to launch an attack," says Ishandra, frowning.

"Could it be that Darcy's just given up?" asks Bloom.

"Fat chance of that," says Ishandra and the others voice the same opinion. "Darcy would never just give up. There's too much Witch pride at stake. No, she's regrouping for a fresh offensive and we had better be prepared for it."

"You have no idea of Darcy's abilities for planning and biding her time for the right moment to strike and this would be prime time for it," says Leffi.

"She's right," says Ishandra. "One of our best fighters is missing and two more have or are about to leave Alfea College. Also, Musa has been careless about telling us when and where she's going and Riven's presence is no deterrent to Darcy. This would be an ideal time for an attack."

"Aren't you all being a tad paranoid?" protest Bloom.

"You still have much to learn about Witchkind," replies Ishandra, somewhat menacingly. "The main thing is to keep your guard up and never show any signs of weakness. I hope you are prepared and that you also have a Plan-B for, mark my words, Bloom, it's coming and a lot sooner than you may think."

Bloom is sitting at her desk trying to calm herself as the Witches make their exit. She sees a dark cloud gathering over all of Alfea, hears a rolling thunderclap, sees a brilliant flash of lightning and is very, very afraid.


End file.
